


Stay (Faraway, So Close)

by HopelessPoemantic



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Abed-centric, But a canon-compliant happy ending :), But romance seen in third person, F/M, Romance, That season 5-6 Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessPoemantic/pseuds/HopelessPoemantic
Summary: Five times Abed saw what others couldn’t, and one time he tried to do something about it.Jeff+Annie as seen through the eyes of Greendale's most observant student.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 118
Kudos: 183





	1. Debate 109 (Fall 2009)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This fic might read a little strangely, since I tried to get as close as I could to what it would be like to see Jeff+Annie through Abed’s eyes. The title is a wonderful U2 song about watching someone you care about collapse and not being able to help them, which reminded me so much of Abed since he always slots into the sort of “observer” role. I’ve always thought Abed’s friendships with Jeff and Annie are some of the sweetest parts of the show, so I’m going through and doing “missing moments” for some key episodes. :) Hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own community. Although there’s probably a darkest timeline where I steal Dan Harmon’s identity, infiltrate a movie studio, and make the Community movie myself out of anger.

Abed Nadir is very perceptive. Usually, that’s the only role he has the opportunity to play. Abed loves being with his study group, but when it comes to their conversations and interactions, he is an outsider. The daily sharing of stories about their lives is usually not something Abed is able to be a part of. Abed’s identified the pattern in it: one person will talk about what happened to them in the past week, another person will express their emotional response to the story, and then the storyteller will be happy because of the response they provoked. Abed sometimes tries to join in. He’ll make a face that he believes would be appropriate when Pierce makes a joke that falls flat, or he’ll smile when Annie shares her latest success. But Abed usually just accepts his role as an observer, because if he lets the group expect him to respond normally in conversation, he’ll eventually disappoint them. 

Shirley might bring up some gossip about Starburns, and Abed, eager to participate, will share a bit of gossip he heard about Annie. Shirley’s face changes, Annie emits a high-pitched gasp, and later, Britta takes him aside to explain what he’s done wrong. Or maybe Troy brings up a new passion of his, and Abed responds with his explanation of why Troy will be unsuccessful. Abed has to watch as Troy’s face falls, Jeff looks down and rubs his forehead, and Shirley starts to shake her head at him. Troy, who understands Abed more than anyone else, knows that he’s not being malicious, and so he says everything is okay. Abed knows better when he sees that Troy avoids him for the rest of the day. 

So Abed’s decided he doesn’t want to be expected to join conversations. Sometimes the story about Jeff’s latest date harkens him back to an episode of Friends, and he can offer up his analysis with confidence that the group will understand it. But in most situations, he doesn't want to run the risk of embarrassment.

So he just sits back and observes. And when he observes, he catches things that others don’t. 

When the group (sans Jeff, who always arrives at least six minutes late) files into the study room, Annie is already at the table, removing her textbook, binder, and notebook from her backpack. She looks up as they walk in, and Abed notices her smile as she looks at each of them. Abed knows that he doesn’t see her face the same way other people do. He knows that Troy can look at Annie smiling and figure out what is going through her head. Abed can only compare the face she’s making to the other times he’s seen it. This smile is one he sees somewhat frequently. Almost always, she greets the group with it. He’s seen her smile this way when she opened a set of colored pens at the table. He’s seen her smile this way when she’s shown the group her test scores. Based on these circumstances, Abed has assigned this smile a word: happy. 

As the group sits down, Abed is silent. He starts to look around the table. Whenever he changes where he’s looking, Abed likes to turn his head sharply and blink; it feels like cutting to a different shot in a movie. He sees Shirley open her mouth to say something, but Britta starts talking first. Pierce rubs his temple, and doesn’t look at Britta while she speaks. Annie is not looking at any of them. She’s already set out her books and pens, and her head is turned toward the door to the study room. She turns toward Britta when Britta’s voice becomes slightly louder, and about a second later her face slowly drifts back toward the door. Abed catalogues this behaviour so that he can analyze it later. He likes to piece together his observations and see if he can identify any developing plots. 

Eventually, Britta has finished her story about accidentally running into her parents at the store. Abed considers joining the conversation - Abed is familiar with a number of complicated parent-child relationships on television - but before he can, Pierce speaks.

“Where's Jeff?”

A related fact pops into Abed’s mind, and he thinks it might be something the group would be interested in, or maybe even enjoy.

“This is now the tenth day in a row you have asked that question when Jeff is his usual 6-8 minutes late.” He doesn’t see many risks in saying it, and even if he’s missed something, the group doesn’t usually scold him when his statements concern Pierce. 

“Pierce, Jeff has been dead for two weeks now,” says Troy with a barely concealed giggle.

Abed notices Shirley’s lips turn up slightly, and he sees Annie’s head snap away from the door and in their direction.

“Troy!” she lets out a small gasp, “Stop it!”

“Ha! The joke’s on you,” Pierce scoffs at Troy, “I know you’re just pulling my leg, because I saw Jeff on Friday. So there!”

“Pierce, you saw Jeff this morning when we first got here,” Britta rolls her eyes.

“That’s what I meant!” Pierce snaps at her. When he leans back into his chair, his brow furrows. Abed has seen this look many times, often after he provides an extensive film analogy that the group doesn’t comprehend. 

“But seriously, where is Jeff?” says Troy.

“Hmph, probably doing his makeup in the bathroom,” Britta’s eyes roll for the second time in just a few seconds.

“Ha, speaking of doing things in the bathroom, I once-”

“No!” the entire group yells to cut off Pierce before things get out of hand. 

“That boy has some serious punctuality problems. I don’t remember a single time where he wasn’t the last one to arrive by at least five minutes,” says Shirley while she shakes her head.

“‘Jeff has serious problems’ is the understatement of the decade,” Britta huffs. “He literally needs to get here late. I don’t think he would be able to physically function if people thought he cared about something.”

At this point, Abed knows he probably won’t be able to add to this conversation without running the risk of saying the wrong thing, so he switches his focus. That’s when he notices Annie again.

She’s sitting so that her body faces toward the door and the two empty chairs on that side of the table. While her head is facing the door, she is watching the conversation out of the corner of her eye, biting her lip slightly. After Shirley finishes agreeing with Britta, Annie adjusts her position, and pipes up.

“That might be a bit harsh, guys. He's probably just getting some stuff from his car. I don't think he really uses his locker.”

“Hmph, Jeff doesn’t even bring his textbook half the time. I highly doubt he’d walk all the way to his car for any reason other than to reapply cologne.”

Abed watches as everyone but Annie snickers at this comment. Annie simply turns her eyes back to the door. Abed isn’t sure what to make of this behaviour, but he files it away to analyze later. 

One minute later, Jeff walks into the study room without looking up from his phone. Abed notices Annie’s reaction. It’s slightly different to the “happy” face she made when the rest of them walked in; it almost looks like she’s trying to stop her face from being too expressive. Her lips turn upward, and her eyes widen. For a moment she begins to fully smile, but quickly returns to a small grin. 

Jeff glances up, and looks around the table counterclockwise. He ends on Annie, and when he looks at her, her smile grows, and she sits up even straighter than before, which didn't seem possible until now. Jeff smiles at her briefly, and then takes his seat and returns to his phone. 

“Well I’m doing well, Jeff, thanks for asking,” says Britta, who then laughs at her own joke through her nose. 

“He didn’t ask you how you were doing, he’s been on his phone the whole time.” Abed can’t resist pointing out a fact that it appears everyone has missed. 

“Abed, I wasn’t- nevermind.” The face she’s making is the same one she makes when he interjects something unwanted into other conversations. 

“Ah, that was sarcasm. You knew that Jeff didn’t say anything to you and you were attempting to mock his lack of conversation by pretending it wasn’t the case.” Abed tries to ease the awkwardness of the situation by making it clear he now understands what is going on. It doesn’t seem to work, because the group maintains an awkward silence for another several seconds until Annie breaks it by suggesting the group begin actually studying.

“I have to leave a bit early today, so if you all want to get some actual studying done we should start now. I have to go prepare for the debate championship in two days!” She smiles widely, practically bouncing in her chair. “We’re facing City College, and Professor Whitman says that this year we will probably come closer to winning than we ever have before!”

“Yeah, I’m sure asking the judges to spontaneously remove their shoes and stand on their tables does wonders for your scores,” Jeff remarks without looking up from his phone.

“He’s not always like that, Jeff," Annie replies with a good-natured eye-roll. "And besides, he’s not even that involved with our team. I’m the one handling most of our preparation.” She tilts her chin upward. “There won’t be a single argument that we aren’t ready to beat them on.”

“I believe it,” Jeff says, nodding, but still looking down at his phone. He says it with the tone he uses to state simple facts.

Abed notices Annie blushing slightly. She smiles and drops her face to her Spanish textbook. “Well, we should get to studying before I have to leave.”

As the group falls into a rhythm of studying interspersed with various conversations, Abed sits back to observe and think as usual. 

He’s interested to see if there is any reason Annie’s behaviour is slightly different to what it was several weeks ago. He might have trouble connecting with people when he interacts with them, but when it comes to determining their character motivations, Abed is a master. He notices that Annie, who leads most study sessions, devotes about half of her eye contact to Jeff. Whenever she goes around to quiz the group on certain words, she always starts with Jeff. Whenever he looks at her, she sits up just a little straighter in her chair. 

There are a few possible explanations for this. Annie might be looking at Jeff more often because he is the most likely to tune out. She might be starting with him simply because he’s directly to her right. She might be sitting up straighter when he looks at her because she is subconsciously intimidated by his height. But no, Abed isn’t clueless. He knows a character pairing when he sees one. 

It makes sense to him. Annie clearly admires Jeff. While she might have disdain for his attitude toward his classes, she probably appreciates (and envies) his ability to be driven and relaxed at the same time. Annie is always the person who knows what she wants and then destroys herself to get it. Jeff, on the other hand, toes the line of knowing what he wants, and getting there while having a good time. He knows when to give up so he doesn’t burn himself out. He knows when to fight hard for something, and when he needs to let something go. Annie needs that. And, of course, Jeff is attractive by nearly all measures.

But these are things Annie must have learned about Jeff early on. What made things change? Abed searches his memory. Annie has always liked Jeff, but was put off by his coldness, maybe even intimidated by it. Abed recalls Annie’s halloween party last month, and how stung she'd been when Jeff abandoned the party before any of the events had begun. He also recalls how giddy with excitement she'd been when Jeff returned to the party and asked her to dance with him. How her smile hadn't gone away even after being brutally chewed out by Señor Chang for ruining his night (and being told that she’d only be receiving partial credit because the party got out of hand). How she'd practically skipped to the parking lot after wishing Jeff a goodnight and leaving. Seeing such a soft and caring side to Jeff had probably made him seem more approachable, more comfortable to be around, and far more available. Maybe that’s why she’s started blushing so deeply whenever he compliments her. Timed perfectly alongside Annie giving up her crush on Troy, it makes complete sense to Abed that something might be going on between her and Jeff. 

But things are definitely different with Jeff. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that something is going on with Annie, and it has to do with Jeff. 

Abed cuts to Jeff, and sees that he’s watching Annie while she goes over their vocabulary quiz. The look on his face is one Abed distinctly recalls seeing before when Jeff was living at his dorm. Abed spent two hours reciting the entire script of Apollo 13 (Jeff’s favorite movie) from memory (Jeff seemed to really have a thing for astronauts). After about ten minutes of perfect recitation, Jeff’s face had changed into something Abed assumed must have been fascination and reverence. 

Now, as Annie walks the group through her ultra-effective and meticulously drawn up study plan with a smile that indicates she is having the time of her life doing it, Jeff gives her a similar look. 

Abed can see that Jeff knows quite a bit about Annie at this point. He knows about Annie’s mind, and it clearly impresses him; sometimes it even seems to astound him. He knows about her vigour, her talent, and her commitment to what she believes is right (although these are things anyone could discover by spending just one day with Annie). Jeff has probably recognized how important these qualities are, and has come to value them the more time he spends with her. He also probably recognizes that, out of everyone in the group, he and Annie can understand each other the best. Both of them set out into life with plans for success, and both of them had those plans derailed by a combination of circumstances and poor judgment. Both of them badly want to get themselves back on track. Abed starts to become excited; he loves a good set of mirroring backstories, however cliche they might be. 

Jeff clearly values Annie as a friend at this point. He feels like he needs to help her along. He sees that Annie has the potential to live a life much happier and less tarnished by bitterness than his own, and he wants to protect that. 

Abed watches as Jeff surreptitiously shifts his eyes back to his phone, until Annie catches him and forces him to focus. There is something missing though, something that would lead Jeff Winger right into that dream sitcom scenario Abed is starting to get excited about. But Abed doesn’t think it will be missing for long.

Annie interrupts Abed’s thought process by asking him to translate a sentence. He does so with little difficulty, and returns to his analysis.

Eventually, very soon, Jeff will find out how beautiful she is. Maybe it’ll happen at some formal event, when she’ll walk in wearing a dress he hasn’t seen before and ask how she looks, and he’ll pause, eyes wide, drinking in her appearance, and say, “You… you look beautiful.” Abed reminds himself that this is just a dopey trope, and he has to dissuade himself from attempting to orchestrate it. Maybe it’ll simply be the flip of a switch. A cog falls into place in Jeff Winger’s brain, something clicks, and boom, he sees it. Either way, when he does, the plot will quickly become interesting for him. Jeff has already seen in Annie a person who has had the same life experiences as him and has come out on the other side without a trace of cynicism. When that person becomes someone he’s attracted to? He won’t be able to resist. 

A light bulb turns on in Abed’s head. He’s just gotten an idea for his next episode of “The Community College Chronicles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback! (and kudos if you enjoyed it!) The Jeff+Annie fandom is my favorite thing in the world, and I badly want to do it justice here. I’ve already mostly written the second and third chapters, so I’ll try to pump them out as soon as possible. And then, for the final chapter, there will be a post-canon ending, which I am very excited about so I’ve got to go write. Be back soon!


	2. Intro to Knots (Winter 2012)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Thank you so much for the feedback/kudos on chapter 1; I'm so glad you guys liked it. This episode has some of the cutest Jeff+Annie moments, but I thought I'd write about what I think could've happened after the episode ended. I know chapter 1 was pretty fluffy/cute, but as we know, while Jeff+Annie are the cutest couple on earth, "relationships are complicated" -Jeff Winger circa 2011. So buckle up for a bit of angst to lead us into the major angst of seasons 5 and 6.

Abed doesn’t know what surprises him more, that the study group has just (successfully!) kidnapped and blackmailed a Greendale professor, or that he has just convinced Shirley to stay and watch Die Hard with them. Somehow, after the (very entertaining) chaos of the past two hours had died down, the group’s manic energy subsided enough that Abed’s suggestion could be well received.

On most days, Abed has no trouble at all keeping up with the plot. Today has not been most days. Abed was simultaneously attempting to keep track of Troy’s deteriorating relationship with Britta, Chang’s motivations in pretending to be Kevin (yes, Abed had figured it out halfway through the documentary), the strange transformation of Jeff’s apartment into something that looked a lot more like Annie’s bedroom, and finally, the quest for better grades that had culminated in tying their history professor to a chair. Abed had hoped to sort through these things in his mind after the chaos died down, but a very distracting kitten was then placed in his lap. By the time Dean Pelton had retired to his room with the kittens and Professor Cornwallis had been released, Abed had given up on keeping track of the night and decided to continue distracting himself with a Die Hard viewing.

Troy and Annie had both been easy sells. It had taken some wide-eyed pouting from the three of them for Jeff to give in as well (Abed suspected that he and Troy had comparatively little effect on Jeff in this regard; Annie did most of the leg-work). Chang said he had an “appointment” with a local gas station to fill up his car, and that he couldn’t stay. Britta had given in when Jeff told her she was about to perpetuate her “buzzkill” stereotype. As Shirley had been preparing to leave, Abed managed to convince her that the primary plot of the movie involved a man attempting to repair his broken marriage in order to keep his family intact, noting the similarity to Shirley’s own life.

“Oh, that’s niiiiice!”

After Chang vacates the spot next to Jeff, Annie says she has to go to the restroom, even though Abed distinctly remembers her going to the restroom about five minutes before. When she returns, she takes the seat next to Jeff instead of her old seat.

As the movie ramps up in intensity, it turns out that not even Die Hard can grip Abed’s attention completely, as his mind is still reeling from the events of the day. It doesn’t seem like the group is focusing on the movie very intently anyway - most of them are whispering to each other and chatting amongst themselves - so Abed takes a moment to observe.

After almost three and a half years, Abed has learned an enormous amount about his friends. Whereas in his first year at Greendale he might’ve been unable to discern Jeff’s sarcasm, he’s now memorized the inflection he needs to look out for. Where he once would’ve been unable to figure out whether Britta’s offense at international news was genuine or manufactured, he’s now identified which facial expressions she uses in each situation.

There are still some expressions Abed has not figured out though. Most of the time, these expressions are very specific, and he only ever sees them in certain situations. Without enough context for him to learn what’s being expressed, or without having it explained, he won’t be able to read the expression at all. Last year, he caught one of those looks on film when Jeff Winger believed he was about to be meeting his father. Abed had never seen the look Jeff gave him then. His jaw had clenched so tightly it looked like it would pop, his eyes had narrowed with a withering glare, and he’d been constantly furrowing and unfurrowing his brow. Abed assumed it must have indicated something negative, but he never saw the look again, and Jeff would never speak to him about it. He’d tried to have a genuine conversation with Jeff before at a one-on-one dinner, but it had been too much for Abed. He didn’t like hearing Jeff’s deepest feelings and not being able to comfort or respond in kind. It made him feel like even more of an outsider than he already was.

Just now, looking at Jeff, he sees another look he still hasn’t been able to pin down. Abed has assigned this look a word: Annie. Since a certain kiss midway through their first year, the look has appeared on Jeff’s face frequently. Sometimes Jeff stops what he’s doing to watch Annie constructing her section of the group’s diorama. Sometimes, during a movie night at the Trobed/Annie apartment, Jeff’s eyes will veer away from the screen and land on Annie. Sometimes she’s not even in the room, and his face simply changes in response to someone talking about her.

The group has their theories about it. Abed and the rest of the group haven’t missed the fact that Jeff and Annie have been spending an unusual amount of time together for the past year. Shirley once described it as “the closest thing to dating I’ve ever seen from two supposedly platonic friends… except for whatever creepy business is happening with Troy and Abed.”

Abed has sat in on many a gossip session during the times when Jeff and Annie are off together trying to figure out who’s been putting glitter in the locker showerheads (it was the dean). These conversations are usually pretty predictable:

Britta: “Well those two… I feel bad for Annie. It must suck to fall for that guy.”

Shirley (with a concerned look): “Have you seen the way he looks at her? It scares me.”

Troy: “Yeah, Jeff is pretty much obsessed with her, and it’s starting to not be cute anymore.”

Abed: “Why wouldn’t they have gotten together already if Jeff is obsessed with Annie?”

Britta (shrugging): “I don’t know. The guy has issues.”

Abed: “What issues?”

Britta (shrugging again): “I’ve stopped trying to figure him out at this point. His problems go way too deep. I thought the whole thing with his dad would help him in the emotional department, but nope. He’s still just as incapable of having a human feeling.”

Abed: “The way I see it, if Jeff and Annie are a typical will-they-won’t-they couple who secretly like each other, they would’ve gotten together sometime in our third year. So either Jeff really isn’t capable of having feelings and it was doomed from the start, or there’s something else preventing him from doing anything. I, for one, would like to know.”

Britta: “Again, Abed, you have to realize some people are just too hard to figure out. Sometimes they are just too messed up to ever have real feelings. And that’s coming from a psychiatrist.”

Abed is stung a bit by how similar this sounds to past descriptions of himself.

Troy: “Huh… maybe you’re right. He makes those faces at Annie all the time but he never actually makes any moves. Maybe he really doesn’t have feelings for her.”

Pierce: “Well obviously he doesn’t! She’s a woman!”

A collective groan fills the study room.

Pierce: “I just meant that he’s gay!”

Troy: “We got that, Pierce.”

Abed: “So in most shows-”

Britta: “Okay, Abed, stop with the TV thing. Jeff won’t act like a predictable TV character because his mind is seriously messed up in a variety of ways, and because TV is literally designed to make you think human beings can fit into boxes and be categorized like animals, and then before you know it they’ve got us walking around with identification numbers tattooed on our foreheads so the government can-”

The conversations devolved pretty quickly most of the time. Abed was always frustrated by the group’s reluctance to actually analyze Jeff’s behaviour. He gets most of his emotional queues from what they tell him, so when they attribute Jeff’s actions to “issues” that none of them can actually describe, Abed is left in the dark. Abed knows about difficulties processing feelings; that’s his everyday experience. He knows Jeff isn’t like that. So he keeps watching, observing. If there is something wrong with Jeff, or something that is hurting him, Abed wants to know what it is.

Already, he’s seen the “Annie” look cross Jeff’s face several times tonight. Now, Abed watches as Jeff happens to turn and look at Annie while she is already gazing up at him. When their eyes meet, the looks they give each other become even more pronounced, even more intense.

While Abed isn’t able to determine what these looks mean without talking to someone, he can determine one thing. Whatever is happening, Jeff and Annie are making each other feel something that no one else does. These looks on their faces are only caused by each other. But then something happens. Jeff very suddenly breaks their eye contact, quietly scoots a little further away from Annie on the couch, and returns his eyes to the movie.

Abed knows Jeff well enough to know the look on his face now means he is upset. But apart from that, Abed is still confused. Did Annie do something he didn’t see to make Jeff upset? Or is there really something wrong with Jeff, like the others said, that is making him act so strangely?

Jeff continues to behave like this as the movie continues. After about ten minutes, he unconsciously shifts closer to Annie until they are touching. Another few minutes, and his arm moves around Annie’s shoulders. And then just like before, Jeff quickly retracts his arm, focuses intently on the television, and places both his hands in his lap.

There is clearly something wrong here, Abed thinks. Whatever is happening right now is not normal. Jeff is expressing what in any other situation would be something romantic, and then his behavior is suddenly reverting to the opposite.

An hour goes by with Abed dividing his attention between Jeff and the climaxing plot of Die Hard. During that time, Jeff and Annie slowly move closer to each other. Eventually, Annie lets her head fall to the side and rest on Jeff’s shoulder.

For a moment, Abed sees Jeff start to smile in the way he only ever does with Annie. They sit like that, both with light smiles on their faces, until it happens again. Abed watches all of Jeff’s muscles tense up as his face takes on an expression that Abed knows to be one of discomfort. Jeff sits stiffly for a moment until Annie notices and looks up at him.

Jeff scoots away from her, clears his throat, and says, “Uh… I need… uh. I need to get a drink.” He gets up, leaving Annie sitting alone with the smile wiped completely off of her face. Annie narrows her eyes as he leaves, huffs out her nose, and gets up to go sit on a different couch next to Troy. When Jeff returns and sees Annie has moved, his face falls in the same way it does anytime Annie becomes upset with him. He sits back down in his seat, now alone in it, with a glass filled with scotch.

This latest interaction makes Abed sad. He hates seeing his friends upset, especially at each other. He can’t stand not knowing what is causing it, so he keeps thinking. Trying to read someone’s feelings through tone or expressions is virtually impossible for Abed without help, but he can tell better than anyone else when someone starts to act out of character. Here, it’s obvious that Jeff is fighting something. It almost seems like there are two totally different Jeffs. One Jeff really does act like he has feelings for Annie, and then, very suddenly, another Jeff takes over and shuts things down. So maybe Jeff really is capable of having feelings like this, and the looks he gives Annie really do contain them. Maybe Jeff is trying to express something real and legitimate to Annie without scaring that other part of him into action. There’s just something in his head that is making him stop when he gets too close.

Jeff goes to refill his glass two more times before the movie ends, almost to the brim each time. When it’s over and the group starts to leave, Jeff is alone on the smaller couch with another scotch in his hand. Shirley smiles at Abed before she leaves, but doesn’t provide any opinion on the movie, so he is utterly clueless as to what she thinks. He starts to call after her, but she is out the door too quickly. Britta and Troy are the next to leave. Abed watches as Jeff turns to say something to Annie, but before he can get a word out, Annie hastily gets up and, without looking at Jeff, says she’s going to leave as well. Abed watches as Jeff seems to withdraw deeper into the couch. Now it’s just Jeff and Abed sitting silently in his apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

Jeff provides a half-hearted nod in reply.

When Abed returns from the restroom, Jeff is sitting at his dining table with his head resting on it, a half empty scotch next to him. Seeing him like this, Abed is hit with a wave of extreme discomfort and overwhelming sadness. He feels like he should help. He’s right there, right next to Jeff, and he’s the only person who knows some of what is happening. But he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to comfort. He doesn’t know how to be the bearer of someone’s emotional burdens when he doesn’t even experience the world like they do.

Abed has seen Jeff like this before, when Annie was falling for a classmate named Rich. Jeff’s face when he saw Annie had been the same as it is now, with his narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Abed knew what was going on. Jeff was hurting and didn’t know how to fix it. So that night, when Jeff was alone outside, he’d walked over to where Jeff was standing in the rain so he could tell him that Rich had turned Annie down. But he hadn’t just wanted to pass information along to Jeff. He’d wanted Jeff to know there was someone who understood him and wasn’t going to pass any judgment. He’d just wanted Jeff to feel like there was someone in his life who was on his side.

So he does the same now. He walks to Jeff’s table and sits down next to him. Jeff looks up for a moment, and then sits up slightly with his elbows resting on the table.

“Troy and I have a lot of rules about Annie decorating our apartment. It makes her really happy that you let her decorate yours.”

Jeff sighs, “Abed, you can go if you want. I’m fine.”

“I don’t have to go if you’d rather me not.”

Jeff sits up a bit more, and looks at Abed curiously, the way he’d look at Pierce when he says something unexpectedly wise and caring. After a moment, he nods, leans back in the chair, and shuts his eyes.

“I promise I’m okay, Abed.”

Abed debates how much he wants to say. He knows he can do damage if he speaks too plainly - god knows he’s done it before - but he desperately wants Jeff to know he understands.

“I know _you_ are okay, Jeff. I just know that there’s something that isn’t okay.”

“There’s always something that isn’t okay.”

“But some things hurt more than others.”

Jeff brings both hands up to rub his eyes and chuckles slightly. They sit like that, mostly in silence, for another hour before Abed decides to go home. As Abed gets up, Jeff looks at him. Abed’s never seen this expression before. Jeff looks like he’s about to say something, but no words come out.

There must be something unique that Abed has made Jeff feel, and he wants so badly to know what it is. Abed is about to ask what Jeff is thinking when he stops himself. Does he really want to risk giving this up? With someone like himself who finds connection so difficult, and with someone as guarded as Jeff, this moment, this look, might be the closest Abed can ever get to him. So, with reluctance, but also with satisfaction, Abed walks out the door, hoping that Jeff will stop him and say something. But as Abed looks back, Jeff just stares at him, desperately trying to communicate something that he knows Abed can’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already pretty much finished chapter 3, so I'll be posting it next week once I've checked it over. Things are about to get very angsty :/ because of a certain season 5 episode that basically broke all our hearts but also gave us one of the most important moments in the entire ship. I will try to finish it up without emotionally exhausting myself haha. Thank you for reading! and please leave feedback and kudos!


	3. Basic Sandwich (Spring 2014)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go. Chapter 1 was a pre-episode missing moment, chapter 2 was a post-episode missing moment, and now chapter 3 is going to be Abed's thoughts as the episode happens. And this is where Jeff+Annie starts to get reallllly angsty. So beware, but also enjoy :) I promise there will be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Abed is currently surprised in the same way that he was surprised at how bad season 8 of Inspector Spacetime had been. He’d been aware that it would be bad, but the extent to which it ended up being bad took Abed slightly off guard. So when Jeff grabs Britta by the shoulder and loudly states, “Britta and I are getting married,” Abed is momentarily thrown off, but he quickly realizes that this is absolutely within the realm of expectation. Jeff is scared that his best days are over, and desperately wants to find some new meaning. Britta is usually willing to accept that her best days are over at the drop of a hat, which leads her to do the simplest and safest thing she can find (there’s a reason she’s back in another bartending job). 

Nonetheless, Abed’s mind is scrambling to fit this new development into the plot that is unfolding around him. Is this a new short-term sub-plot being layered onto the already chaotic central plot? Or is this the beginning of a spin-off that is doomed to fail? Abed knows that in spite of what Jeff might think at the moment, this isn’t a big deal; it’s not going to last any longer than Jeff’s panic. With this in mind, Abed continues to busy himself by uncovering what he hopes is-

“Secret trapdoor!” Abed yells over background arguments that he barely registers. 

A moment later, they are underneath Greendale, splitting up for a beautifully cinematic treasure hunt, something Abed had figured he would only ever experience inside the dreamatorium. Abed is quickly lost in the magic of the unfolding story. He starts looking for secret panels or hidden doors, while possible resolutions to the current conflict race around his head. Rounding a corner, he finds Annie staring into a doorway.

“Anything in there?” he asks. 

The moment she starts speaking, Abed knows something is wrong. He’s lived with Annie for almost two years now, and during that time his friendship with her has grown tremendously. Annie’s guidance has been one of the main reasons Abed is so much better at identifying and reacting to the feelings of others. In return, Abed has worked hard to understand Annie. He’s learned to read her expressions; he’s learned ways in which he can comfortably listen to her express things she feels; and he’s slowly become somewhat of a confidant for her. There are still things Annie doesn’t talk about, and Abed is still too unequipped to confidently respond to her, but nonetheless, she is slowly filling the gaping hole in his life that was left by Troy.

So when Abed hears Annie quietly croak out, “It’s just spiderwebs-” he knows immediately that her voice is filled with pain. To be sure, Abed brings his flashlight up toward her so he can see her face. 

“And… beanbag chairs-” she struggles to finish her sentence without bursting into tears, but fails. Hearing her voice break, Abed is suddenly filled with a familiar anxiety. Before him is his friend, clearly in pain, and there’s no one else in sight to help her. Abed scrambles for something to say, terrified of letting her down as he has so many others in emotional situations. His mind races to figure out what triggered her tears, and he latches onto the last thing she’s said.

“Oh, don’t cry. The importance of lumbar support hadn’t been established-”

“It’s not that!” Annie cuts him off, and Abed winces at the tone of her voice. “It’s just… even if we do save Greendale, which Greendale will we be saving? First, Pierce dies, then Troy leaves…”

But this isn’t what Annie is really talking about. Their worlds were certainly rocked by the loss of Pierce and Troy, but Abed knows Annie’s true attachment. He’s perceptive. This is about Jeff Winger. 

Abed hasn’t missed that Jeff’s “Annie” look didn’t often go unreturned. He’s seen Annie space out with her eyes in Jeff’s direction at least as many times as Jeff has done the same with her. And just as with Jeff, he’s heard Annie’s denials. On her first day in the dreamatorium, she told Abed she was never in love with Jeff. She claimed she was in love with a Jeff that didn’t exist, because the real Jeff didn’t actually know how to love someone. She said she wanted to change him, but was giving up on it. Abed couldn’t ignore that this sounded suspiciously like something Jeff would say; that Annie’s feelings aren’t actually real, that they’re just naive and irrational wishes. The next day, Annie seemed to be making an effort not to look at Jeff. 

It was only a week later that the look returned to Annie’s face. During the trial of Todd for yam-murder, Jeff had pulled Annie into Professor Kane’s office for a sidebar. Whatever had happened in that room deeply affected her. When Annie walked out of the room, her eyes were fixed on Jeff with that same expression that no one else ever received. 

It’s been almost two years, and the glances have only grown in frequency since then. So there is no question in Abed’s mind as to what, or whom, Annie’s tears are for. 

“And now people are…”

“Getting married?” Abed finishes for her.

Her face stiffens a bit as he says it. Her gaze falls to the floor.

Abed doesn’t know for sure why he does what he does next. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s so overwhelmed by the plot that he can’t think clearly. Maybe he’s scared that Greendale’s story actually  _ will _ come to an end, and he’s losing his inhibitions. Probably, it’s because Annie Edison’s happiness is something Abed cares about more than almost anything else in the world. Abed remembers when  _ he  _ was the one panicking about the future, and his study group helped him realize he didn’t need to be afraid. Now, Annie’s afraid, and Abed is the only one here. So he speaks. He speaks from the part of his mind that he keeps hidden from the world, pouring out his observations in their natural form.

“Annie… look I don’t know people, but I know tv. When characters feel like the show they’re on is ending, their instinct is to spin off into something safer.” At first, there is a rush of fear as Abed opens up his mind to Annie, letting her see the world exactly as he sees it. But as he continues, it starts to become more comfortable.

“In Jeff and Britta’s case, something that would last six episodes and have a lot of bickering about tweezers and gluten, starring them and an equally waspy brunette couple, with a title like  _ Better with my Worse Half _ or  _ Awfully Wedded _ or  _ Tying the Not _ but “Knot” is spelled without a “K” or  _ Hashtag Couple People Problems _ and every episode you get to decide who wins the fight by going-”

“Abed!” Annie shouts for the third time, “Stop developing!”

Apparently he’d gotten _ too _ comfortable. Abed apologizes, inwardly scolding himself, and refocuses on the task at hand.

“The point is... this show, Annie… it isn’t just their show. This is  _ our _ show. And it’s not over.” Abed can see the corners of Annie’s mouth begin to turn up again, and the rush of happiness it gives him pushes him to do something he usually avoids at all costs. He let’s Annie in on his prediction of the plot.

“And the sooner we find that treasure, the faster the Jeff-Britta pilot falls apart.”

Annie’s smiling now, and Abed is completely overwhelmed with joy at the sight of it and the knowledge that he’s responsible for it. New tears are welling up in her eyes. 

“Got it.” Even though her eyes are still moist, her smile is as bright as ever. “Thank you, Abed.”

“You’re welcome.”

And then Abed snaps back into reality. 

And oh crap, crap, crap, he’s just gone completely off script based on his random guesses about what Annie is feeling, which is just absurd because out of anyone in the world there is no one less qualified to be guessing what another person is feeling than Abed Nadir, and now he’s panicking because he’s probably just completely misread the smile on Annie’s face, so now he has to say something quickly to do damage control in case he’s given Annie the wrong impression…

“I have a girlfriend,” he blurts out.

“What?” 

“You were about to start a kiss-lean?”

“I was  _ not _ !” Annie’s smile has been quickly replaced by the face that always goes along with her distinctive high-pitched gasp. In spite of Abed’s extreme discomfort due to his misread of the situation, he’s relieved, and not just because Annie wasn’t actually going for a kiss-lean. It’s comforting to see Annie’s vigour return, even if it’s directed angrily at him. His Winger-speech seems to have had its intended effect. 

“Fine. Let’s go get that treasure,” Abed says, and he turns and walks determinedly back toward the rest of the group. Everything is going to be okay, he tells himself. 

Then the next few minutes happen. At first, Abed felt like he was right. The treasure, that beautiful, gold-encased computer that glowed like Abed always imagined golden treasure would, was right in front of them. Just as he predicted, Greendale was going to be saved, their show would continue, and everything would be back to normal. The dean would have his job back, Jeff and Britta would separate, and Annie would finally have her chance to get what she wanted with Jeff. Everyone would be happy. 

Only a frail and disgusting old man had stood in their way, desperately clawing at Jeff in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable dismantling of his computer. You’d think he was watching a loved one be murdered from the way he was trying to resist Jeff. Jeff had grabbed him by the shoulders to hold him in place, trying to shake some sense into him. And then everyone had frozen.

“Stop!” It’s Annie’s voice. Her face… it seems like she’s upset. Abed can’t imagine why, not when they’re so close to saving Greendale, not when Annie is so close to fixing everything.

“You guys… what are we doing?” 

“Saving Greendale,” Abed answers, shocked that Annie seems to have forgotten their goal.

“From what? We were driven down here by sellouts with crappy values. Since when do human beings decide which dreams are worthwhile?”

What is she saying? It almost sounds like she’s trying to stop them from saving Greendale. Why doesn’t she want this?

“Look at him,” she says, looking at the old man Jeff has just let out of his grip, “He’s one of us.”

There’s so much going on in Annie’s eyes. It can’t possibly be that this old man she’s only met minutes ago is stirring her feelings this deeply. What’s making her do this?

“We have to respect each other enough to…”

Then he sees it. She squeezes her eyes shut as if trying to force the words out of her mouth, and when she opens them again she’s looking directly at Jeff. 

“...let each other want what we want.”

Abed starts to panic, his picture of the future quickly falling apart. What is she doing? She can’t be saying this to Jeff; this isn’t how she feels! She can’t just let him go now, not when they’re so close. Because this… this is not what Jeff wants. It’s perfectly clear to Abed that this future Jeff has tricked himself into pursuing is not what he wants.

The flashbacks roll in rapid-fire, memories and past observations that Abed is seeing new significance in. 

Second year: Jeff Winger walking Annie Edison to the parking lot at 1:00 in the morning after staying up with her to clean black mold out of the East stairwell. Their arms are linked together, and as he gets to her car door and opens it for her, he gives her a theatrical bow. When he walks back to his car, his lips are turned up ever so slightly.

“... no matter how transparently self-destructive…”

Third year: Jeff Winger reading an excerpt from his recently begun journal for the documentary on the Great Pillow War. As Jeff reads the torn out page, with Abed sitting behind him so he can read his lines next, Abed glances over at the journal sitting next to him and sees that it's been accidentally left open to another page. A page that begins with the words “Dear Annie.” Abed wills himself not to the read further, imagining what Shirley might tell him, and closes the book for Jeff.

“... or empty our desires may be.”

Fourth year: Jeff Winger, drunk, leaving Abed a very long voicemail in the middle of the night that he’s clearly fallen asleep a minute into. “Abed… you were right. Some things… do hurt more than others… I uh… I must not have done it right at Greendale. I missed something. I’m sitting alone in my office and I... just spilled scotch on a brief… I’m at a failing law firm that can’t afford to send you the check we owe you for that dumb commercial… and… I miss…. I just… she… I don’t feel happy anymore… not like… with…”

Annie looks up from the ground, back up at Jeff. The expression on her face… it’s not one Abed has ever seen before. But he’s also never seen Annie give up hope like this before. She’s letting Jeff go; she’s giving up. And at the same time, she’s telling him how she feels, that her feelings for him run so deep she’s willing to let him want what it seems like he wants, even if that isn’t her. 

She deserves to know. She’s standing there hurting while Abed is helpless to change anything. And she doesn’t know. But it’s all so clear to Abed. He’s put it all together. Jeff’s feelings might be under constant attack from insecurities and fears, but they’re real. And Abed knows exactly what he feels. So when they become locked in the lab, when it seems like hope really is lost, and when Jeff pulls on that strange helmet, Abed doesn’t even need to see it. Doesn't even need to see, for just a heartbeat after he turns around, Jeff’s eyes fixed on Annie with a look Abed can be certain is love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. The scientific proof that our favorite couple/non-couple are absolutely in love. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and that I did the episode justice with my interpretation of it. Please let me know what you thought of it! This chapter kinda wrecked me to write because I had to rewatch this episode over and over again, and it is just an emotional gut punch every single time (but, of course, I love it). Sadly, the emotional rollercoaster is still headed downward, because we're heading into Jeff's deterioration in season 6. But keep hanging on! You can't keep these two lovebirds apart for long :)


	4. Basic RV Repair & Palmistry (Spring 2015)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really hard to write, and it ended up being really long (it basically covers all of season 6), so it took me a few extra days to finish it up. Brace yourselves... because we're knee deep in season 6, and Jeff is decidedly NOT okay.  
> Side-note: I don't think the show ever clarifies for sure whether season 6 takes place over one or two semesters, but I'm writing as though the fall semester has already happened when season 6 begins. It just makes a bit more sense to me since Jeff seems to have regressed completely as of episode 1. If the show actually does clarify that, then we'll all deal with a bit of AU here haha.

It started out small. Jeff had never been forward about spending time with Annie. It usually just happened naturally. Whenever the group would split up to work on something or play a game, the two of them had some unspoken agreement that they would pair together. 

But in that first week of the Fall semester, things were different. When Jeff was given a task that he’d normally end up doing alongside Annie, he inexplicably found himself doing it alone. When Annie would have normally requested Jeff’s help on some project, she was suddenly fine to do it by herself or get Abed instead.

At first, Abed tried to convince himself that there actually wasn’t any big change. After all, it had been months since the group had spent a substantial amount of time together, so maybe he’d just forgotten their dynamic and started imagining differences. 

And then she stopped looking at him. Annie Edison, the girl who once couldn’t keep her eyes away from Jeff Winger, stopped looking at him. And when she did, her face was no different than it would’ve been if she was looking at Britta. That was when Abed was forced to acknowledge that something had shifted.

He still looked at her… but his face was different. It wasn’t the barely hidden smile and the slight crinkle below the eyes that Jeff would usually shoot her way, eliciting a wide close-mouthed smile and a blush in return. It was the face Abed saw back down in Borchert’s lab. It was love. But it was marred by something painful. 

Jeff was doing his best to remain chipper for most of the semester. He still made attempts to do things with Annie, but usually she had innocent reasons to avoid them. 

Then two things happened in succession. Jeff came to school with a bottle. He didn’t hit it hard, but he had a glass with him during the Save Greendale meeting. The same day, on his walk from class to the cafeteria, Abed passed Jeff’s regular classroom and glanced inside through the glass as he usually did each day. And for the first time that semester, he didn’t see Jeff standing at the blackboard or sitting partially on his desk while in earnest conversation with one of his students. He saw Jeff lounging with his feet on the desk, a television playing Planet Earth propped up next to him. 

There is normally an easy fix for a slacking Jeff; all it takes is a bit of a push from a disappointed Annie, and Jeff will straighten out. But Abed was quickly learning that he could no longer count on anything being the same between them. When he told Annie what he’d seen, he saw a glimpse of pain on her face that was so fleeting he wondered if he’d imagined it. But it was gone, and Annie shrugged off Jeff’s behavior with a “well, it’s his class, he can teach it however he wants,” as if it were normal and nothing to be concerned about. Several times, Abed walked by Jeff’s classroom with Annie, knowing that she could see what’s going on inside. But based on her expression, it seemed like she might as well have been looking at an empty room with nothing of note inside. Once, Abed thought he noticed her voice shake as they walked by the classroom to see Jeff slouching in his chair with a glass of scotch, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. 

Eventually, Jeff started carrying the bottle around with him more openly. He started to appear mildly inebriated at meetings. On multiple occasions, Abed would see his students exit the classroom looking like they’d just woken up from a long nap. 

Abed is observant. He usually sees things that others don’t. But this? This was obvious. Jeff was collapsing right before their eyes, and somehow everyone acted like they couldn’t see it, like absolutely nothing was wrong. Annie smiled and laughed normally when the group was together. Britta engaged in the same banter with Jeff that she had for the past five years. Shirley seemed removed most of the semester, and didn’t give off any sign of noticing what’s wrong with Jeff. Eventually, Abed learned that this was because Shirley’s father had been sick for a majority of the semester. With Troy and Pierce gone… There was no one left but Abed. No one but Abed who still seemed to remember the real Jeff. Who knew that this mask of sarcasm, disinterest, and occasional smiles and laughs with his friends was not the real Jeff. The real Jeff was… well, real. He tried to enjoy life. He knew not to waste the moments he had. Sure, he would always want to sit back and take the easy route, but he wouldn’t drink himself into mediocrity day after day and remain only half-plugged into the world at all times. The real Jeff  _ cared _ . And as much as he might have disagreed, he  _ acted _ like he cared. 

Abed didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand why no one was helping him. If he were Annie or Britta or even the Dean for God’s sake, he’d say something. He’d know what to say, how to communicate it without hurting someone, how to talk without making them think he was insane or living outside of reality. But he couldn’t. He was just Abed. And just like every other moment in his life, he was on the outside looking in. He could only watch helplessly as everything went wrong.

For much of that semester, Abed was angry. Angry with himself for being so useless. Angry with Jeff for regressing. Angry with Britta for casually pushing Jeff with insults that no longer had an outer shell of confidence to deflect off of. And, especially, angry with Annie for abandoning Jeff. She had a role in Jeff’s life. They all did. They’re connected; they’re a group. Jeff is there for Britta when she needs to complain. Britta is there for Abed when he needs to be grounded. Abed is there for Annie when she needs to unload. And Annie was supposed to be there for Jeff when he started to lose sight of the good she first saw in him. But she wasn’t, and so there was no one. Just Abed, good-old, incapable Abed who could never be relied upon to be there for anyone emotionally. 

But as much as it tore at Abed to see his friends hurting each other, he couldn’t remain angry with them. He knew he couldn’t blame it on any of them, least of all on Annie. Abed had been there; he’d seen how deeply Annie had been hurt. He thought back to her speech underneath Greendale in the lab. 

She’d meant it when she let Jeff go. And now she was pulling away, trying to spare whatever was left of her heart. She didn’t realize what it would cause. She couldn’t know the torturous cycle she was participating in: Jeff refusing to tell Annie the truth about how he feels because he thinks he isn’t deserving of her love, Annie distancing from Jeff because she thinks he doesn’t love her, Jeff letting his life fall apart in the hopes that Annie can swoop in and give it meaning again, and then Jeff looking at his collapse and only seeing further confirmation that he isn’t deserving of Annie’s love. It would’ve been simpler if there were blame he could pass around. But there wasn’t.

When the Spring semester began, Abed hoped things might snap back to normal. But nothing was different. The first thing Jeff did when he arrived at Greendale was to fill a glass. His behaviour actually seemed to worsen around Annie, and his face seemed wearier with each glance he gave her. And still, no one seemed to notice or care. Everyone acted like business as usual, even Jeff. Abed couldn’t understand. He wasn’t imagining it all; it was impossible to miss. When the Save Greendale committee got a new member, Frankie, even  _ she _ could see it, and it gave Abed some hope. But Frankie turned out to have no credibility with the group. They wouldn’t listen to her. They just thought that she was only viewing Jeff’s outer shell, the cold and unfeeling persona that surrounded the good man they’d all come to love. Somehow, they were ignoring that Jeff was gradually being reduced to nothing _but_ that shell. 

But Abed wouldn’t ignore it. He would be there for Jeff, even if it couldn’t be in the way he wanted to. He’d try to stand next to Jeff whenever it seemed like he was especially down. When Jeff was left to do some task by himself, Abed would tag along to be with his friend. He needed Jeff to know he was there for him, even if being “there” was all he had to offer. No one else was offering it. 

* * * * *

When Jeff dragged the entire school down with him into a drunken spiral, and Annie became the victim, Abed sensed danger. He didn’t need to read Jeff’s face to know that it was a face of pure terror. He didn't need to hear the shake in Jeff’s voice to know that he was veering toward something extremely dark. 

The first thing Abed had heard was that a drunken “Ladders” professor had seriously injured a student sitting in the front row. Knowing Annie was a mainstay in Greendale’s front rows, he’d run at top speed down to the infamous Ladders classroom to find a crowd developing outside and EMT’s rushing down the hall. Looking past them, he could see a body lying motionless on the ground, clad in a familiar Green blouse. The fear he’d felt started out as fear for his friend’s life, and quickly became something more when he thought about what would happen to Jeff when he found out. He’d run blindly to Jeff’s office, told him what had happened, and then sprinted just behind him as they ran through Greendale, arriving just in time to see Annie being carted away on a stretcher: conscious, smiling even, but clearly in pain. After she was taken to the ambulance, Jeff had stood in place, the fear frozen on his face, until after almost a minute when Abed put his hand on Jeff's arm and led him to the car so they could follow Annie to the hospital. 

Abed made sure to stay by Jeff’s side almost non-stop for the next few days. He followed Jeff to the hospital when he went to visit Annie, even if it meant leaving in the middle of one of his classes. Jeff knew to send Abed a text message before he left, and within a minute Abed would be outside waiting by Jeff’s car. He decided to skip other classes in order to keep Jeff company in his office when he would otherwise be alone. Once, when Jeff wasn’t expecting him, he saw the remnants of tears on Jeff’s face when he walked in. 

Jeff still maintained a paper-thin shield over these emotions during Save Greendale meetings. But the group should have known what was happening to him. Yet, during the meetings, they all carried on as if there were nothing to address about the incident but the paperwork. When Annie’s injury became the subject of conversation, both Annie and Jeff treated it as if it were just another minor problem with Greendale that needed to be written on a star shaped post-it note and pinned to the wall. Only Abed seemed to recognize that Jeff was barely holding on against waves of guilt, so he rides out the tide with Jeff until Annie is healed to the point that it stops crossing Jeff’s mind every time he sees her. 

* * * * *

When a dispute over how to defend Greendale from an attack-ad pushed Annie so far that she cleared out her locker to transfer to City College, Abed could see that Jeff was barely maintaining his composure after she stormed out of the room. After everyone solemnly left the study room, Jeff remained lying down on the couch in the corner. Abed went and sat next to him.

“She doesn’t want to leave, Jeff.”

“But she left. And I made her leave, not Greendale. God knows Annie’s seen worse at Greendale than a dog with a degree.”

“If that’s true, why would you make her leave?”

“Because it’s not possible to be the person Annie Edison sees in you. For the same reason it’s not possible for any of us to be Annie Edison.”

“That’s not why she left. And I think you know that.”

“Well why don’t you enlighten me?” Jeff snapped.

“It’s believing that we’ll never be the people she sees in us that made her leave.”

Silence.

Five minutes later, at Jeff’s urging, he and Abed were hard at work writing a new, far more Annie-inspired response to the attack-ad. Seeing the genuine smile on Jeff’s face when Annie bounced into the study room for the next meeting, Abed knew why. 

* * * * *

When the discussion over how to edit a Greendale-sponsored sci-fi film suddenly escalated to the point where Jeff seized the computer and ran off with it, Abed knew that he had to be the one to confront Jeff about it. Jeff’s actions might have appeared childish or unserious, but beneath that appearance there was usually something legitimate that Jeff was wrestling with. 

But when he found himself shoved against a landslide of frisbees with Jeff’s hands closed around his neck and his breathing almost entirely cut off, the thought that Jeff had truly become a lost cause did cross his mind. Fortunately, Jeff had  _ just _ enough sense still about him to realize that choking Abed to death was not something he actually wanted to do.

“Are you nuts? What is wrong with you?”

For a moment, Abed couldn’t feel anything except fury. But as soon as the anger took over, it was met by sympathy for Jeff, who was so obviously in pain. Calm came over him again very quickly, and he reminded himself that he’d once tried to cut off Jeff’s arm, so there was some obligation to be forgiving. Jeff was his friend, and Abed had made an unspoken promise to weather whatever he needed to for him. 

“Every single one of you is gonna leave here except for me.”

Abed fought down the discomfort that always came along with listening to something personal. He’d promised. He could do it for Jeff. 

“Troy, Shirley… Annie’s gonna be president… even Pierce got to die! Now Chang goes to Hollywood, so we force you to make the crappiest movie of all time, and then we force you to make it even crappier, and we watch it and it’s still not even that bad! And the part I accidentally got the most excited about is the seven minutes we can cut.”

The Mayor’s death scene, seven straight minutes of actually half-decent acting from Jeff that Abed would have fought to keep had they not already gutted his movie entirely, had been one of the only scenes the group could agree to cut. Jeff hadn’t seemed particularly excited about it until Annie made an offhand comment about how Jeff actually looked pretty cool in that shot. Jeff had pulled Abed aside shortly after and convinced him to go for one more take where Jeff could really give it his all. 

“Do you know what that means?”

“It means I’m a genius, but we already knew that.” Abed thought he deserved a moment to be bitter about what they’d done to his film. 

“I finally know in my heart that I will literally be the last one of us here.”

Abed saw it then. Jeff was scared. It wasn’t sadness or resentment in his eyes. It was the face he’d made looking down at a broken Annie in a stretcher. Jeff was terrified of losing them. Jeff was terrified of losing  _ her _ . All year long he’d been looking at her and seeing nothing except for the eventual future where she was somewhere else and he was still at Greendale. He was stuck believing that because he messed up somewhere along the line, his future was ruined. As he’d been left more and more alone without her by his side, he’d thought more and more about what would happen when she was  _ really _ gone,  _ really  _ out of reach. 

Words were tearing at Abed’s tongue, furiously trying to squeeze their way out, but he just couldn’t do it. He didn’t know how. This plot was too sensitive for Abed to meddle with, and he couldn’t count the number of times he’d hurt someone in the past by trying to. But he had to do something. 

He couldn’t help Jeff. Jeff was scared of the future. Abed had only ever caused pain when he tried to rearrange the future in a more pleasing way. But he could show Jeff what helped  _ him _ . 

“Jeff… You helped me learn something about filmmaking today that I think we all need to apply to life. It’s okay to plan some stuff and it’s okay to figure out what we did wrong, but our plans are randomly gonna fall apart and our lessons are randomly gonna be wrong, and if we just keep the cameras rolling and shoot a lot of crap, eventually  _ Annie is going to reach down her shirt and pull out a laser bomb. _ ”

Jeff’s eyes dropped to the floor when he heard Annie’s name.

“I didn’t write that. We didn’t plan that. God made that happen. God made this movie… and it’s dumb. And we’re dumb for being in it…”

Abed stopped to think about his own life.

“Life is a big, dumb, pointless movie with no story…”

Abed remembered watching his mother leave. He was six years old, watching her pack up in the middle of the night through a crack in his door. He didn’t know what she was doing, so he didn’t stop her. Years later, he still didn’t know. The closest thing he’d ever gotten to an answer was a piercing glare from his father aimed directly at him whenever he asked the question.

“... and an abrupt ending where the hero gets shot by Dracula in the middle of a lunch order during an outtake…”

Abed remembered watching Troy leave. He hadn’t expected it. There had been no subtle change in their friendship, nothing off or strange about it. It was perfect… and then it was gone. Clone or not… that hole in his heart was there in every version of Abed.

“But somewhere in there…”

Abed remembered Jeff walking into the full study room for the first time. Remembered the first post Winger-speech group hug. The first time someone actually defended him from a bully. The first time friends ever came to a birthday party. That was the future Abed had gotten. He hadn’t tried to plan it. He hadn’t tried to predict it. He’d let it happen, soaked it in when it did, and then held onto it whenever he could. 

Jeff had those moments. Every time Jeff looked at Annie, Abed saw the potential for it. But it was always either regret or fear. Never the understanding that those are the moments he needed to hold onto, not the mistakes in the past or the imagined ideas of the future. Those moments, and those people, life’s version of Annie pulling a laser bomb from her shirt, were all there for him, and he could have it if he stopped thinking only about what would happen if it was gone.

“Every once in awhile-“

“Annie reaches down her shirt,” Jeff finishes.

Abed smiles, more for Jeff’s sake than for his own. He stands up, “So we keep the cameras rolling. And we edit out the parts we don’t like, and we _stop_ thinking about Chris Pratt so much because it is _not_ healthy.”

Jeff started to get up, and Abed instinctually went to help him, even though he immediately realized that his chances of actually contributing were near zero. As Jeff stood, he grabbed Abed’s already outstretched arm and pulled him into a hug. The face he made as he did it… it was the one Abed had seen before, on that Christmas night in Jeff’s apartment when Abed had stayed with him to make sure he was okay. As Jeff pulled him into an embrace, Abed felt… relieved. Like there was actually something he had succeeded in doing by standing silently next to Jeff for the semester and giving him metaphorical pep talks. 

“Will you do me a favor?”

“I’d never tell anybody about our private conversations; I wouldn’t really know how-“

“Let’s cut my stupid scene out of this piece of crap.”

* * * * *

This has been the story of the semester: Jeff spiraling toward the edge, Abed staying close to make sure he didn't tumble off, and then more days where it felt like Jeff was just one incident away from collapse. 

Now, Abed is standing outside of a broken-down RV in the cold, and the entire group is looking at him in anticipation. For most of the day, Abed has been distracted. He’s been inside his own head, trying as hard as he can to make sense of the disaster that the day turned out to be. But two things snapped him out of it. Jeff had flown off the handle again, and it was one of his worst yet. The sting still lingering on Abed’s cheek is evidence of it. The next was the look on Annie’s face. 

All year long, Annie has been stoic in the face of Jeff’s regression. Once upon a time, Jeff Winger telling his students to nap as an assignment would have been more than enough to bring Annie down on him like a hammer. She would have noticed the missing smiles on his face, or reacted to the angry outbursts that have become more common. But there hasn’t been a single acknowledgement, apart from expressions so fleeting that Abed can’t even be sure he was actually seeing them. It’s the same smile every time she sees Jeff, and that smile is the same smile she gives to the lunch lady when she walks by in the cafeteria. 

But her expression after Jeff struck Abed in the face… at first it had been the same shock that filled everyone’s eyes, but then it had changed. It was a familiar look. Her eyes remained wide, but they softened. Her mouth hung only partially open, as if she’d forgotten it was there. Abed remembers one night in particular where she’d worn the expression almost non-stop, as they’d rushed a comatose Jeff Winger to the hospital on the night of his 40th birthday. 

She’s finally seeing it, and Abed needs her and Jeff to know that they can fix it.

The panic that has occupied his brain all day has gone away; a brief intervention from Frankie that sent his mind into the distant future for answers has given that to him. The group is looking at him expectantly, probably waiting for him to “Winger-speech” the dean out of the locked RV. 

“I’m here now, child,” he says, looking at Frankie. “All will be made right.” Abed is calm when he’s in character, so he stays that way. He’s as self-confident as they come, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to mess up in front of everyone. Characters don’t mess up; they’re scripted and perfect, and people are more understanding of their flaws. Real people don’t have flaws that everyone can understand, and so it’s harder to be forgiving and easier to be angry. Future Abed can handle this speech, since real Abed’s history mostly involves hurting people when he talks too much. 

He turns to the RV, where the dean has shut himself inside, but his words are meant for the two people behind him who are watching him with pain in their eyes. 

“Dean.”

“Abed,” comes the dean’s questioning voice.

“I have discovered the meaning of the giant hand. A hand has two functions: to grip and to release. But without both of these powers, it is useless.”

To grip and to release. One person behind him has done nothing but release as of late. She’s distanced. She’s denied what her own heart wants. She’s blindfolded herself and refused to look at what’s happening right in front of her because she’s done trying to hold on to it. 

“Like newborn infants, we grab what comes near us, hoping to control it. Taste it. Jam it into another child’s eye.”

But Jeff... he can’t let go. He’s so desperate to cling to some long lost future where he becomes 25 again and jumps out into the world with reckless abandon. Where he has the ability to conquer whatever he comes across, and his ceiling isn’t falling asleep while teaching law at a community college. Anything less than that... and he’s not good enough. Not good enough for himself. Not good enough for her.

“But the time we spend in control of our world... is the time we spend letting go of others.”

If Jeff can’t let go of what he wishes he could be, the next best thing has been to cling to another future that he still can try to control. One where he tells himself that he isn’t good enough, and makes sure to push away anyone who might mistake him for being good enough. One where he’ll wrestle with his own feelings for control of his life, just to make sure that what he thinks is right will happen. And the more he fights for control... the more he’s letting go of what he really wants.

“Ideas, stories, pride, girls in soft sweaters, video games, buttered noodles... grip one for too long and you lose so much that you never held.”

Future Abed turns around to look at the rest of the group. 

“This giant hand was sent to all of us as an invitation to increase our mastery over the power to hold on... and let go.”

* * * * *

As Abed spoke those words...  _ the time we spend in control of our world... is the time we spend letting go of others _ ... one person behind him understood. 

Annie thinks back on the last six years of her life. Before Greendale... before Jeff... she’d never known how to let go of the future. She’d always been so focused on it that she’d forgotten what was happening in front of her. When she‘d thrown back her head and swallowed more pills than she’d taken the time to count... she hadn’t been thinking about herself in the present. She’d been focusing only on what was ahead of her and how she could get to it faster. When she’d decided to run off with Vaughn to Delaware... she hadn’t been thinking about what she wanted in the present. She’d only been focusing on how she could somehow grab a hold of her life and exert her will on it in a more assertive fashion. 

But as she’d sat in her tiny, one-room apartment that night, hastily packing her clothes into a duffle bag without even planning her outfits, something nagged at her. She tried to ignore it as she got in the car and started driving... but she couldn’t get it out of her head. Something Jeff had once told her in passing. 

When the rest of the study group had been busy, Jeff had agreed, after some persuasion, to help Annie with a diorama for one of her classes. From what she knew about the class, the professor graded harshly, so she wanted to get started on the project at least a week before it was due. But the stress on her face had clearly been visible, and Jeff spent about twenty minutes trying to convince her to take a break and lie down. When she refused, he put his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him. 

“I promise you, Annie, if you want to enjoy anything, ever, you’ve got to take a second to live in the moment. The future will still be there when you get back.”

He’d said it with a casual grin, as if it were something meaningless, but she couldn’t forget it. So as she drove to the airport with a packed bag, she did just that. She lived in the moment, and thought about what she really wanted.

It was because she lived in the moment that she found herself in Jeff's arms out in front of Borchert Hall that night, standing up on her toes with her lips pressed against his. And now, as she hears the same advice being given, she looks up at Jeff, hoping to see him respond to it like she did all those years ago. Because she’s done letting go. 

But when she looks up at him, her gaze is unreturned. All she sees are his eyes set like steel straight ahead.

Because for one of those people standing behind Abed as he gave his Winger-speech, it was too late. 

_ Letting go _ , Jeff thinks. He’d seen the pain in Annie’s eyes when he struck out at Abed. For the first time in what felt like years, he’d managed to trigger some actual feeling in her face, and it was just pain. He could see the person he was turning into. And that person wasn’t meant for Annie. That person was meant for Greendale. Meant to stay there and be content living a life with minimal purpose and minimal pay where everyone with even a hint of potential would be gone in a flash, and he’d be left alone to drink until he forgot the hole in his life that he didn’t deserve to have filled. And if that’s who he’s going to be... then youth isn’t the only thing he has to let go of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was really heavy... and I'm sorry but also Dan should be the one apologizing because season 6 is just a dagger in my heart ugh. I had some difficulty writing this chapter, mainly because I tried to give a full picture of Abed's relationship with Jeff in season 6, so I would EXTRA appreciate any feedback you have to offer on it! I commend you all for weathering the angst, and you will be rewarded soon enough I promise. Hopefully the same goes for the eventual movie *hint* *hint* Dan+friends please we want that happy ending SO BADLY.


	5. The Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television (Summer 2015)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alriiiight, we are back! Sorry this took me a lot longer to write than normal; it's pretty much all dialogue, which I am very slow at writing. Thank you guys for powering through all the sadness of the last few chapters with me. I've loved hearing all of your thoughts on it. We're out on the other side now, and things are about to get juicy. If you weren't sure, this is the one time that Abed sees something that others don't, and then really does something about it, because he's the hero of our story and we love him so much. I hope you all enjoy :)

For only a moment, he had seen it. The look was right there on his face. It had been so long since Abed had last seen anything like it… it must have been more than a year now. Abed remembered that he had been running a game of dungeons and dragons that had gone on for much longer than expected. When every character save those of Professor Hickey and his son had perished, the group had slowly backed out of the apartment, leaving Abed to moderate the tense relationship in front of him. After fifteen minutes with no sign that the game would be coming to an end any time soon, Abed shot Annie a subtle text to let her know that she might want to find something to occupy her for the rest of the evening since their apartment was in use. He’d received a quick response: 

_It’s fine, Jeff took me to get something to eat, so take your time :)_

Almost two and a half hours later, the game had ended, and Abed was left alone in the apartment. He’d texted Annie that she could come back, but didn’t get any response. A half hour went by, so Abed felt he was justified in borrowing a few “stuffies” from Annie’s room for another D&D game to occupy himself. Abed lost track of time, and only saw that the clock read past midnight when his concentration was broken by a light knock at the door. 

It was Annie, who smiled sheepishly and apologized for taking so long. Behind her was Jeff, one corner of his mouth just barely turned up, the face he made when he was trying to hide how much he enjoyed something. Annie had started to walk past Abed and into the apartment when she quickly stopped, did what was almost a hop as she turned around, and ran three very quick steps back to where Jeff was standing. She wrapped both her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. 

At first it had just been a bit of surprise on Jeff’s face. It took him a second to put his arms around her too. Then, when the hug ended and Annie backed away smiling at him, he’d responded with his own smile, the one that only one person could prompt. But as Annie turned to go back inside and they exchanged goodnights, the smile changed. Jeff just stood at the door, watching Annie disappear inside, and Abed saw Jeff’s eyes become distant, like he was watching some invisible TV. His smile became more relaxed, and he let out an unconscious sigh. 

That had not been the first time Abed had seen the look, and by then he was sure he knew what it was. He knew what was going on when Jeff acted like he was looking at something that wasn’t there, because Abed did the same thing whenever he sat down and imagined he was somewhere he wasn’t. He knew that whatever movie was playing in Jeff’s head was something that made him happy; the light smile on his face didn’t have a trace of worry in it. And he had a pretty good idea of who the cast might be, because it was always with one person specifically that this look appeared.

Since then, Abed had hardly even seen Jeff happy at all; he certainly hadn’t seen anything close to that look of total joy and contentment. Until now.

As Abed turns out of Greendale’s parking lot for his last time as a student, he can’t think of anything but that look. Something had happened in that study room before he and the group had walked in; that much he knows. 

He hadn’t seen much when he and the rest of the group had walked in, just Jeff’s hand on Annie’s shoulder… or was it lightly touching her cheek? Usually that wouldn’t have stoked his suspicions at all; Jeff and Annie had a tendency to put themselves in situations that looked to the outsider like they were together. But the last year had been anything but that; they’d hardly been by themselves at all, much less doing anything that looked remotely affectionate. Then Chang had made some quip about the two of them, which usually provoked a dirty look from Annie and a very subtle, downcast expression from Jeff. But as Annie turned around to look at Chang, he was met only with an impossibly wide smile and a rapidly growing blush. When Abed glanced at Jeff, there was no half-hidden expression of sadness, just a playful smirk that Abed followed to the back of Annie’s head. 

When Annie turned around to look back at him, the smirk was replaced. At first, Abed had no idea what the face was. He was so used to Jeff’s latest array of misery-tinged expressions that anything else seemed foreign. That calm, effortless smile, the distant yet focused eyes… no it was something he’d certainly seen it before. 

The expression disappeared quickly after Frankie started speaking, but Abed saw it again moments later when Jeff broke away from an extended group hug. That was when he remembered it, when he flashed back to another hug that had induced this look on Jeff’s face that night after the D&D session. Jeff was happy. 

The look on his face was genuine happiness, the type of thing Abed had been dying to see Jeff experience all year. It wasn’t the type of temporary relief that Jeff expressed after the group pulled off a complex grift. It wasn’t even the glimpse of joy Abed had seen on Jeff’s face when Annie ran into the study room the day after she almost transferred to City College. This was Jeff losing himself in imagining something that really made him happy. Like he was actually considering a life he could love, and he thought it might actually be somehow within his grasp. And he was looking at Annie. 

And then again… it was gone. When the group started to file out of the room, Abed looked back at Jeff, and any trace of happiness was no longer there. One wave goodbye and forced smile later, Jeff was gone, and Abed was in his car following Annie’s tiny, second-hand Toyota home. 

Abed is tired. He’s tired because it’s late, but it’s more than just that. He’s tired of having his head occupied with Jeff. He’s tired of forcing himself to look after Jeff in situations where Abed could otherwise just be carefree and enjoy himself. He’s tired of his heart hurting because Jeff’s is. But he can’t help it. Just like he can’t help doing everything possible to help his friend. 

A thought, a very unwelcome one, scratches at Abed’s mind. He tries to push it away, but it’s stubbornly making its way to the forefront of his mind.

_You haven’t done everything possible._

Of course… it’s an absurd thought. He’s practically devoted his entire school year to Jeff. He’s followed him around like a puppy to make sure he’s okay. He dropped an entire class so that Jeff didn’t have to be alone in his office. He made a Winger-speech for goodness sake! Abed, famously terrible at connecting with people, made a Winger-speech for Jeff. 

Well… technically that was Future Abed. And technically that wasn’t actually a speech directly to Jeff, and technically it was shrouded in metaphor… 

Technically there’s still one more option. But he could never do it. If Abed’s entire life were a weird but endearing indy-film, the moral of the story would be that when Abed speaks too much, too directly, things go wrong. People are hurt, stories are ruined, and then he’s right back to square one where he gets stuffed into lockers because he’s a creep that not even his own mother wants to be around. 

Abed could never risk the damage he might cause. Abed hurt almost every day for Jeff… and it hurt to think that this would go on. But Jeff was too important to Abed for him to risk making it even worse… 

That thought sounded familiar. 

Sounded just like something Abed had been mentally berating Jeff for thinking all year. Wasn’t Jeff’s entire problem that he wasn’t willing to take a risk? That he couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen, and so he missed what _was_ happening?

Shouldn’t Abed take his own advice? For years he’s been staring incredulously at Jeff’s cluelessness, wondering how long it will take him to do something. He’s watched as Jeff makes a mess of what should’ve been the greatest thing to ever happen to him. He’s watched while Jeff became so hyper-focused on his own insecurities that he didn’t even try to make himself happy. Why should he just keep watching while Jeff continues to be the biggest idiot in the galaxy?

Abed’s worked himself into something closely resembling anger now, and it gives him the last bit of courage he needs to pull into the left lane, just a bit too frantically, and make a u-turn. 

* * * * *

Ten minutes of driving and then several minutes spent on his phone preparing a surprise that he hoped might be convincing, Abed is there, standing right outside the door. 

When the door opens several seconds after he knocks, and Abed sees Jeff standing there with a look of confusion on his face, Abed pushes past him and into the apartment without saying a word. Jeff has changed out of his blue sweater into a white t-shirt, and there’s a bottle of alcohol on the coffee table that it doesn’t look like Jeff has gotten to yet. _Good_. 

“Uh… okay, so do you mind telling me what’s going on here?”

Abed turns around, looks right at Jeff, and… panics. He opens his mouth to say something, and the second he does the analysis begins. Option A will go wrong in about 10 seconds. Option B would go wrong immediately. Option C has some potential to last, but would eventually go wrong after a few minutes, option D-

“Abed? This is uh… this is creepy-weird okay?”

When words still aren’t coming out, Abed simply points to the couch, silently urging Jeff to sit in it. Jeff seems to get the picture after a second, slowly walks over, and sits himself down. 

Abed tries desperately to turn off his predictions, but to no avail. He’s still panicking. He’s here now, and his anger feels like it’s worn off, and he needs to find some way to get it back or else he will be entirely without the courage to do anything but walk out the front door right now... 

“Jeff... don’t get mad at me when I do this; I promise it’s for your own good.”

“Abed, you’re scaring me. What are you-” Jeff is interrupted by a swift slap directly across his face. The mix of confusion and fear he wore a moment ago has turned to pure shock. Abed takes advantage of Jeff’s shocked silence and goes for it. 

“What is wrong with you! Are you some kind of masochist and your favorite thing in the world is making sure that your life is filled with as much pain as possible? And you think _I’m_ crazy? You-” 

“What the hell, Abed!” Jeff roars as he leaps to his feet. 

Abed takes a few steps back. It’s actually working. He can feel the words coming to him, and the burst of emotion he feels pushes him to say them without thinking. 

“Jeff, I am about to say some things to you, and you’re going to listen to them. This is going to be a real conversation, and while it might be something I am completely unequipped to handle, it’s going to happen anyway. And I realize now that you may be completely confused about what is going on here and about why I just slapped you and called you a masochist, and I’ll-” 

Jeff cuts him off, “Abed, stop rambling and tell me what is going on right now or I swear I will _actually_ strangle you this time.” 

Abed takes a breath, “Okay.” He walks over to the couch to the left of Jeff and sits down in it, trying to maintain his composure. Jeff sits down along with him. 

“Jeff... I think I had your character pegged wrong, I-”

“Abed, please, I am not in the mood to hear this tv-show crap right now.”

“No, Jeff, I mean it. I really think I misjudged you from the beginning. I always thought you were the character who’s greatest skill was his ability to live in the moment. The one who keeps everyone around them from taking things too seriously, the guy who makes sure the other characters know when it’s time to give up on something, the guy who’s really good at doing that himself. I mean, from the time you first brought us together, you were always the one who kept us from obsessing over things we didn’t need to. And you always tried to enjoy your life, even though you were at a community college you hated. Sure, you had times where you were stressed, but you always knew when to call it a day and show us what we really needed to be focusing on. So I assumed that must be who you were: the character who knows how to enjoy things, and who knows when something is worth obsessing over and knows when to let it go.”

Abed stands up and begins to pace back and forth in front of Jeff seated in his smaller couch.

“But you’re not, Jeff. That’s not you. It turns out, you don’t know how to give up. If you care. If you really care about something, you will not give up on that thing even if it is literally killing you.”

“Abed, I get the feeling that you think you’re saying something very important here, but I honestly have no idea what it is.”

Abed paces even faster, realizing the next words he has to say.

“Jeff, you know I’m pretty observant, right?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“So when I say what I’m about to say, I don’t want you to bother fighting it or denying it or whatever you feel the urge to do. You just need to sit and listen to me say it.”

Jeff nods slowly.

“I know what happened down in Borchert’s lab.”

Abed keeps speaking, but the moment after he says that first sentence, Jeff’s jaw clenches, his eyes darken, and he grips the armrests tightly.

“I know that the only reason we got out of there was because there was someone down there who makes you feel something so strong that it can power an electronic device. I saw the look on your face, but I didn’t even need to, because a simple process of elimination takes us right to the answer. I know it wasn’t Borchert or the dean, I know you like me but I don’t kid myself, and there’s no way that Britta was-”

“It was Annie.”

Abed has been so busy flashing back that he hadn’t seen Jeff’s face change. His eyes are downcast, his expression has softened, and... it’s the look from down in the lab. It’s like he’s looking at her right now.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you knew that long before you ever put on the helmet.”

Jeff stays quiet.

“And you knew what Annie felt. Even if you told her that it wasn’t real, you knew she wanted you?”

Jeff shuts his eyes and doesn’t speak. 

“So what is wrong with you! You know all that and you just sit there and make her think it's all in her head?”

“Abed, watch it.” Jeff’s voice is quiet, but he bites off each word with a snarl.

“No Jeff, I’m here for you to listen to me. I know you might not think that you’re the best fit for her, but there comes a point where you just have to get over that!”

Jeff is back to his feet. “Abed, look at me. Take just a second with your stupid television brain to think about this character right here, the one in front of you. The 41 year old man who _just_ graduated college for the first time and was such a failure that he couldn’t leave even after he got his degree. The guy who tried to strangle you and then slapped you in the face because he’s angry at life and he takes it out on the people closest to him. The guy who physically cannot get through the day unless he has a drink in his hand. The guy who drank himself into a coma on his birthday because he honestly didn’t care at that moment whether he lived or died. That guy. Now, that you’ve got that in your head, I want you to compare _that guy_ to Annie Edison. The 24 year old girl who has the ability to do anything she wants. Who has so much potential that the damn FBI wanted her even though she comes from the mess that is Greendale. The girl who has been perfect at anything she’s ever attempted. The girl who devotes probably the vast majority of her life to making sure her friends’ needs are met completely. The girl who makes the people around her feel like they actually have a shot at being as amazing of a person as she is. Make that comparison Abed. Even you, with your head fully in the clouds, are able to see that something is very wrong if those two people end up together.”

“Jeff, you of all people know that you have a special way with words. You could make me and Troy sound like a bad character pairing. But even if you genuinely believed all of that, why are you the one who gets to decide what happens? You think Annie isn’t smart enough to make her own decisions? You think that little of her that you’re going to just kick her aside without giving her a say? You’ll just keep telling her she’s reading into things, that it’s just her imagination? She’s my friend too, Jeff, and for someone who supposedly thinks so highly of her, you have a real talent for hurting her.”

“You cannot say that to me when everything I do is to make sure she _doesn’t_ get hurt,” Jeff snarls, “Everything! You think I want her to leave for the FBI and never come back? You think that’s the season 7 I imagine when I shut my eyes? Not even close. I let her go, Abed. It’s way too late for any of this.”

“What was that face you were making in the study room tonight, then? I know you, Jeff. There was something there. You were letting yourself believe you could be happy, and then it was gone. But it was there for just a second; I know it was.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I believe! Sure, yeah, I was thinking about what a life with her might be like. I do that all the time. But none of that changes anything! I kissed her goodbye tonight, Abed. That was it; it’s over. I told her that I’d let her go, and now she’s gone.”

“I’ve seen you think about her before, and it wasn’t like tonight. You never actually believe it could happen. You did tonight, and you were happy! This is what I mean when I say I misjudged your character! You’ve decided that it’s best for Annie to keep her away from you, and because you care so much about her, you won’t give up on it even if it’s killing you. What happened to the Jeff that knows how to live in the moment? You can see that you’d be happy, why can’t you just give up trying to fight it?”

“None of that changes the fact that she’s gone now, Abed. I’ve let her go, just like you said.”

“Jeff you- wait what? I would never tell you to let her go, that would be so out of character-”

“You said it yourself that night by the RV. That we need to learn to let go of some things and just start to accept what we have.”

“And you took that as you needing to let go of _Annie_? Jeff, she is the last thing you needed to let go of. Your biggest character motivation from the beginning has been trying to feel good about yourself. And that only changes when you’re with Annie. But it also means that it prevents you from holding onto her. You constantly obsess over trying to be something you’re not. You’ll never be a teenager with limitless potential, Jeff. And you know that. But you still can’t let go of it. You still can’t let go of the idea that you can only be worth loving if you’re young and successful. Annie’s the type of person who knows that. She knows what makes people worth loving. And there’s no reason you can’t recognize that too. You just... you need-”

“I need to let the kid stuff go.”

Abed blinks in surprise, watching a very sudden shift in Jeff’s demeanour take place. He sits down again and puts his head in his hands, rubbing his fingers through his hair. Abed walks over to the other couch and sits as well.

“Jeff... do you remember what Annie said to you down in the lab?”

He can hear Jeff’s breathing deepen, but there’s no response.

“When she said that we need to respect each other enough to let each other want what we want? She was talking to you. You know that. Talking about you and Britta. But... it’s advice you need to take too. Annie has spent so long trying to make you see that she doesn’t care about all the things you think are wrong with you. She does everything she can to make you see the parts of you that she loves, and I think a lot of the time she’s successful. So now, you need to respect her enough to let her want you, no matter how transparently self-destructive it might be.”

Jeff hasn’t moved. He’s just sitting there, his hands covering his face while he draws shaky breaths. 

“You need to see that she-”

“That’s not it, Abed,” Jeff’s voice cracks just the slightest bit as he says Abed’s name.

“What do you mean that’s not it? We’ve already established that you both have feelings for each other, so why-”

“You don’t understand, Abed. I can’t lose her.”

“Jeff, you don’t have to lose her. That’s the point here, you can-”

“And what happens if I do give in? What if I do let something happen with us, and then-” Jeff’s voice breaks again. “And then she realizes she doesn’t want it? She stops seeing whatever she saw in me and leaves? What then? Because she’d be gone then, Abed. Gone completely.”

“Well...” Abed pauses and tilts his head to think, “You have to take that risk. You can’t just sit here drinking yourself to death because you were too scared of what might happen if-”

“You don’t get it, Abed!” Jeff lifts his head up as he raises his voice, and his eyes are red and moist. “I would rather live in agony for the rest of my life, never getting to be with her, just as long as I know I won’t lose her completely. I really would. If I can see her happy, and I can still be in her life, I’ll still hurt, but it will be worth it if I don’t have to lose her!”

For just a moment Abed has no idea what to say. For just a moment he’s panicking, figuring that he’ll leave this apartment and scenario F will play out exactly as he thought it would. But then the obvious answer hits him.

“Jeff... that means you love her.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t lose her.”

“Jeff... you do love Annie. Yes?”

Jeff nods immediately, but the word takes a moment to get out.

“Yes.”

“And you could promise without even a second thought that you would love her for the rest of your life? And never stop loving her? That you’d love her more than anyone else ever could?”

“Yes.”

“Then the next step is trust, Jeff.”

“What?”

“Let me use a metaphor I can understand.”

At this, the smallest hint of a smile crosses Jeff’s face.

“When I watch a tv show, I’m making a commitment to it. I’m trusting it. I’ll be watching an episode, and it’s just absolutely perfect, and so I keep watching the show. I do that by trusting them. I trust that the makers of _Inspector Spacetime_ won’t hurt me. And that’s because I really just have two options here. I can look ahead and be imagining the future. And in my mind, that’s a lot; it includes the darkest timeline. So if I’m only looking at the future, I’ll be too scared to watch _anything._ I’d have stopped watching Inspector Spacetime after 4 episodes because I’d be too nervous about all the ways in which they could have screwed up the true nature of the Inspector’s parents. But I don’t do that; I go with the second option. I live in the moment. I look at the episode I’m watching, I realize it’s amazing, that it’s everything I could possibly want, and so I decide to trust that it won’t hurt me, and I keep watching. And for 53 seasons and several movie specials that arguably shouldn’t have been made, it’s made me happy. I haven’t been let down. And I definitely could have been. And I would’ve been hurt; I would’ve been devastated; I would have felt let down, and then I would have kept on watching knowing that they will rectify the fact that there is no scientific explanation for two separate constables from completely different dimensions being able to meet without any ripple effect on-”

  
“Abed you _were_ kind of getting somewhere but...”

“Yeah... sorry. The point is... I’m happier because I trusted them. Trusting is part of loving. And if you won’t do that... you’re not going to be doing anyone any good. You’ll just be hurting Annie and yourself.”

“And your betting pool over whether we get together before the semester ends?”

“We deleted those emails before the leak... how did-”

“Chang.”

“That’s in character.”

“Yep.”

“And for what it’s worth Jeff... Annie won’t let you down. She never does. Ever. And you know that probably better than anyone. I’ve seen her love you so much that she was willing to give you up to another woman just to make you happy. That kind of love hardly even makes a bad episode, much less ruins the show.”

“That’s Annie for you.”

Abed pauses, and pulls out his phone. “So now that we’ve had this conversation, I hope you know that I’m expecting you to do something about it. And just to make sure you do something about it, I took the liberty of purchasing round-trip tickets to Washington D.C. two weeks from now, as well as booking a room in a hotel near to the building Annie will be working in. And it’s all non-refundable. And I bought it with your credit card.”

“Abed! Wha- how? I got a new card when you figured out my old one!”

“Annie and I needed to renew your netflix account when you got a new card, so we snuck into your bedroom during your birthday party and I memorized it.”

“You’re insane!”

“Well unless you want to waste all that money or end up taking a terribly awkward trip to D.C. filled with nothing but broken hearts and U.S.T., you should get moving.”

Jeff stands up completely, and even though his eyes are still puffy, he’s smiling. 

“Well, Abed, I think we’ve established once again that you are a god. But I have to go do something right now. Feel free to relax here for the night if you’d like. Goodbye.”

* * * * *

Abed saw Jeff the next morning, and if even if he hadn’t had inside information as to what Jeff was probably up to the previous night, he would’ve known something was _very_ different. They were small things: The smiles he gave reached further up into the corners of his eyes; he walked with a barely discernible bounce in his stride that had been absent most of the previous year; and Abed caught him daydreaming twice with a pleasant look on his face. 

When Abed arrived back at his own apartment and saw Annie, however, calling the change “obvious” would have been the understatement of the year. The first sign had been the smell of pancakes. The second was Annie literally jumping across the living room to wrap Abed in a hug that was, even for Annie, over-enthusiastic for the occasion. The pancakes that she made were chocolate chip, which was a rare delicacy. The entire meal, she was smiling down at her food. Abed tried at least four times to get her attention without success. During one conversation that he was eventually able to pull her into, he mentioned Jeff’s name, which drew an audible giggle from Annie. 

Abed stayed at home for most of the rest of the week, packing and getting ready to say goodbye to the apartment he’d first called home with Troy. Annie wasn’t home for much of the week, and Abed didn’t have any contact with Jeff other than a brief phone call confirming when they would leave for the airport. 

When the day came, the knock on the apartment door was five minutes late, which had Annie close to panicking in spite of the fact that they had left themselves a large window to reach their flights on time. Abed saw Jeff put his hand gently on Annie’s shoulder as he walked with her down to the car. After Abed had thrown his bags in the trunk and gotten into the backseat, he could’ve sworn he heard a soft “milady” from outside the car as Jeff assisted Annie with her bags. 

Just a few minutes into the drive Jeff’s hand found Annie’s resting on the center console, and their fingers intertwined. They sat like that, both with smiles wide enough that Abed could make them out from the backseat, for the entire drive. 

Jeff had accidentally driven past the gate on the first go, and Annie had been too distracted to point it out to him. When they finally loop back around and park, Abed cracks a joke about the front seats distracting each other, which earns him his bag being thrown at him. He watches as Annie stands to the side, waiting expectantly for Jeff to walk over to her. When he does, her smile grows wide.

“See you soon?” Abed hears her say quietly, and in answer he sees Jeff lean down to kiss her on the lips. 

“Just a week,” he hears Jeff respond, and he sees a similar smile on Jeff’s face before they embrace. 

And then Jeff turns to look at him. 

At first, it’s nothing interesting. A light grin and a hug goodbye. But when Jeff pulls away, he doesn’t let go. Abed looks up at him, feeling a bit unsure what is going on, and that’s when he sees the look.

That same look he’d first seen Christmas night, two years ago. The same one he’d seen in that pile of frisbees after Jeff almost killed him. The look that Abed wanted so badly to understand, the look that only he had ever triggered on Jeff’s face. Jeff is just staring at him, holding him there.

“Thank you for everything, Abed. I...” Jeff doesn’t need to finish, because when he pulls Abed into a second embrace, this one longer and tighter than the first, Abed knows. He finally knows what it was on Jeff’s face. Gratitude. Gratitude for something Jeff had never had before. All the other times in Jeff’s life where he’d needed someone, there had been no one. But Abed had actually been there, and he hadn’t left, hadn’t given up when Jeff still needed him. And Jeff had seen that, he’d known, and he was telling Abed he knew. 

They don’t say anything when they break away. They just look at each other with bittersweet smiles. 

“Cool,” Abed says to Jeff, smiling a bit wider now. He turns around to meet Annie who is already walking toward the entrance. 

“Cool cool cool.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is!!! I wrote this chapter as if I were in a room with Jeff and could just say everything I wanted to say to him (it was very cathartic). Dan wrote Abed partially to represent the audience (and himself a bit too haha), and so this is Abed's chance to represent us by saying all the things to Jeff that he needs to hear because that boy needs encouragement, a slap in the face, and a giant hug. And if that ending wasn't quite fluffy enough for you, don'tttt worry. We've got one more sort of "epilogue" chapter and it's post-canon and it is literally ALLL fluff. So yeah. See ya soon :)


	6. Intro to Romantic Companionship (Fall 2015)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've weathered the pain; now you are about to be rewarded with the the fluffiest chapter on earth. You're welcome :)

Abed had expected the news, but the timing took him by surprise. It had only been a few months into his new life in California when he found out what happened and was prompted to book the most immediate flight possible to Denver, since he wanted to arrive at least a day before they did. He learned from Britta, who picked him up from the airport to take him back to his old apartment, that Shirley had booked a flight for the very next day. Troy, who’d resurfaced (literally, he and Lavar had lost the Childish Tycoon and been forced to pilot a decommissioned submarine from the Caribbean to the coast of Florida in order to escape pirates holding them captive) just a few weeks after Abed left Greendale, had told Abed that he was planning to fly in the next day as well and would arrive just a bit before Shirley. Frankie and Craig had graciously offered to host in Study Room F, and, much to Abed’s delight (the symmetry was almost too good to be true), it was unanimously accepted. 

When the next day comes, he and Britta carpool with Troy, who comes from the airport in a massive limousine. This is the second time he’s seen Troy since the end of his voyage, but nonetheless, Troy bursts into joyful tears the moment the limousine door opens. The next fifteen minutes are filled with extremely dense and hard to follow conversation in which Troy tries to ramble through over a year’s worth of adventures through occasional sobs, Britta does her absolute best to keep track, and Abed interjects at times with helpful comments like, “It’s exactly like the final confrontation in _Alien_ , except Lavar Burton was Ripley, and it was underwater instead of in outer space.” When they finally pull into the Greendale parking lot, Troy is quickly silenced when he looks out the window and sees the school before him. 

Abed sees the Lexus in the parking lot, and knows they must be there already. With every step he takes toward the study room, he has to resist the urge to stop and flashback, as almost every significant memory of his life is suddenly trying to scramble back to the top of his consciousness. He can’t step out of reality now; he needs to be here for this. 

The moment they top the short stair leading into the library and see those familiar double doors, Troy takes off toward them and runs inside. The next thing Abed hears is a chorus of “Troy!”s and the sound of something falling over.

He walks inside the study room, barely holding off a barrage of flashbacks, to see Troy enveloped by the Dean, Jeff, Annie, and Chang in a tight hug. Frankie, who is standing off to the side seemingly unsure of what to do, waves awkwardly at Abed and Britta as they walk in. 

“You don’t even know how happy I am to see you guys,” comes Troy’s muffled voice from the center of the group hug. “I can’t even remember the last group hug I had, unless you count those smelly old guys we freed from prison in Cuba.” 

“We missed you so much!” That’s Annie’s voice, but it’s also muffled. 

“I would ask about the Cuba thing, and I promise you I will eventually, but this seems like a moment I shouldn’t ruin,” Jeff’s head towers high enough above the fray of the group hug that his voice comes out clear.

Abed sees Annie peek her head out of the hug, and when she sees him and Britta she squeals and jumps out of everyone’s arms to run toward them. She slows just enough to avoid knocking them both over and pulls them both into another hug. 

“You guysssss,” Annie speaks while trying to wrap her arms around both him and Britta at the same time, “We’re here! We all get to be together again!” She pulls away to look at them both, and then quickly jerks around to look at Frankie.

“Oh, Troy! You haven’t met Frankie! She helped us save Greendale! Frankie, this is Troy, who used to be in our study group!”

Frankie smiles hesitantly at Troy, “Steel drums guy, eh?” 

Troy’s expression becomes one of confusion, but before he can say anything he’s interrupted by a scream coming from outside the study room. 

“It’s happeningggg!” Through the doors runs Shirley, who makes a beeline for Annie and pulls her into her third hug of the last fifteen seconds. “It’s finally happening! I knew it I knew it I knew it!”

Britta jerks her head toward Annie, “Oh my god I forgot why we were all here. Ahh… uh… congratulations!”

“Ah I need to see it!” says Shirley, pulling away from Annie but holding onto her left wrist.

That’s when Abed sees it: the sparkling, silver ring on Annie’s left hand. Abed blinks and turns his head toward Jeff, who is leaning against the study table behind them, beaming.

“Anniiieeeee,” comes Shirley’s sweet voice, “It’s so beautiful!”

Annie simply smiles in response, and Troy rushes over to her to look as well.

“Hey, you’d think she was engaged to someone else by the amount you’ve ignored me so far, Shirley!”

Jeff’s voice prompts Shirley to let go of Annie’s hand and rush over to Jeff to begin yet another hug; Abed’s already lost count. It goes on like this for a few more minutes, with various introductions, embraces, and congratulations. Eventually, the group is seated around the study table, with the Dean sitting in Jeff’s regular chair, and an extra one pulled up next to Annie that Jeff now occupies. His hand is resting lightly on the backrest of Annie’s chair. 

“So! When are you gonna tell us!” questions Shirley.

“Tell you what?” responds Annie.

“How it happened! What was said, what was done! We deserve to know!”

“Oh! That… yeah,” Annie blushes as she speaks, “Well… we were in D.C. It was Jeff’s third time out there visiting me,” she looks over to him and smiles as she says it, “He’d meet me outside of work every day, and then we’d just hang around the city together until we went back to my apartment.”

At this, Jeff smirks slightly and begins to say something, and as if she can sense it, Annie turns to him and scowls, raising her finger toward his lips, “Don’t!”

Jeff raises his hands in an innocent gesture, “Woah, I was just gonna tell Abed that you made me start watching Cougartown!”

Abed raises an eyebrow.

“I… can't say I hate it. However badly I wish I could.”

“Enough about Cougartown; we want to hear what happened!”

“Okay, okay. So it must’ve been… I don’t know uh…” Annie swallows, “a week ago.” 

“ _A week!”_ It’s Shirley, Britta, and the Dean in unison.

“You do _not_ mean to tell me that you were engaged for _four days_ and we didn’t know about it.” Shirley has accessed that other part of her voice now, and it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Annie, this is very disappointing,” the Dean scolds, “You of all people should know that putting together a party like this with only a day’s heads up is _certainly_ not ideal.”

“Guys, calm down,” Annie says firmly, “We just wanted our time together to be relaxing and carefree, and if we’d told you, we would’ve been dealing with all of your questions the entire time before we got back, and don’t even try to deny it. So I think we were justified in having a little time to ourselves. You wouldn’t have wanted to ruin our first few days together as an engaged couple, would you?” The look on Annie’s face is the one she’s perfected that can guilt even Abed into listening to her.

Shirley and Britta both grumble something inaudibly. The Dean starts to say something, but a glare from Jeff silences him. Troy, meanwhile, has had a massive grin on his face through the entire conversation, and doesn’t seem to be put off in the least.

“So, about a week ago, I was… well… I was going through my wedding binder in my apartment,” Annie blushes again as she says this, “Not really because I thought anything was going to happen really soon! I was just feeling really happy and I wanted to think about the future a bit. At one point I started googling some different venues, and Jeff walked in on me.”

Jeff jumps in, “Honestly, I wasn’t that surprised. Turns out, I know you pretty well.” He turns his face toward hers and smiles at her, “But… I didn’t really know how to react. What do you do in that situation? So I ended up just standing there awkwardly.”

“It was really awkward. He was just standing in the doorway staring at me and not saying anything. And I kinda panicked, and so I shut the computer as fast as I could and I started rambling and telling him how I wasn’t expecting him to actually want any of that and that I would be completely fine if he just wanted to go slowly and not think about marriage at all, and then I realized I’d definitely done something wrong because he got all sad looking and I really thought I’d blown it.”

“To be clear, I was _constantly_ thinking about marrying you. I’ve been thinking about marrying you for years now.” 

“Well I didn’t know that! So I was a bit panicky. And after I stopped rambling, he just kept staring at me, and he said, ‘I’ve gotta go. I have to do something.’ And then he just walked out the door! I was almost in tears! He just left me there without another word!”

“Jeffrey!” scolds Shirley.

Jeff put his hands up in surrender, “Okay, maybe that wasn’t the smoothest thing to do. But I really did have to go! Hearing her say all that stuff… I couldn’t bear to think that she’d be even slightly unsure of how I felt about her. I didn’t want her to have any low expectations for me. That’s about the most un-Annie thing in the world. So I really could only think of the one thing to do. I just left. I went straight down to a jeweler and I bought a ring right then and there. And then I marched back up to her apartment and asked her to marry me.”

“Woah woah woah! Excuse me, mister, we’re gonna need a lot more details than that,” says the Dean.

“That really was it,” responds Annie with a small smile on her face. “He just pounded on the door, walked inside, got down on one knee and said, ‘Annie Edison, will you marry me?’ And I was completely shocked. I think it took me ten seconds to squeak out a yes.”

“Scariest ten seconds of my life,” Jeff turns and smiles at her again.

“And for anyone wondering, don’t worry. I got a Winger-speech a few minutes later,” her smile becomes even _wider_ , and she turns to meet his gaze, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips. 

“Just the basics: how I love her enough to marry her at this very second, how she’s the reason I’m even alive, how I probably would’ve proposed to her the first day I got to D.C. if I hadn’t thought that it would freak her out, stuff like that.”

“Jeffrey!” Shirley’s voice is sweet again, “That’s so sweeeeet!”

At a slight noise to his right, Abed turns to see Troy somehow finding more tears to drench his face with.

“You guysss… I always knew this was gonna happen and-” Troy is interrupted by a sob, “I’m just… I’m just so happy-” The end of Troy’s sentence is cut off by yet another sob. 

“Yeah it only took six years,” Britta’s tone sounds like she’s trying to come off as annoyed, but the giant smile on her face belies her true attitude. 

“When you have the wedding, can it be outside Borchert hall where you kissed? That would be perfect for symmetry… or even better, could it be in the gymnasium where you had your first kiss during the debate? Or you could have it underground in the lab where we found out for certain that you were in love? Or we-”

“Abed,” Jeff interjects, “there is no way you’d catch us having a wedding on this campus. That would beeee…” Jeff trails off as he catches Shirley glaring at him, “something great for some other couples but probably not for us.” 

“I have to say, I was skeptical of this at the start, and I still definitely am, but I can picture multiple scenarios in which this actually works,” Frankie pipes up, looking between Jeff and Annie intently, as if performing a calculation concerning them. 

“Uh… thanks?” Jeff looks at her quizzically. 

Shirley gives Frankie a scolding look, and turns to Jeff, “Don’t listen to her, you two are the cutest couple in the world. I’ve never seen you both so happy!”

Abed tilts his head slightly when he hears Shirley’s words, and looks at Jeff’s and Annie’s faces. If this is really the happiest they’ve ever been, he wants to memorize their new expressions so that he can catalogue them. He looks intently at both of them. Jeff, his close-mouthed smile bleeding into every corner of his face, crinkling his eyes and just barely letting you look into them enough to see the glowing warmth of his gaze directed at Annie. Annie: Her face flushed pink, her eyes turned up toward Jeff with a look of complete adoration, her smile reaching nearly from one end of her face to the other. These are clearly looks of absolutely unfiltered love. But… something about them catches Abed’s attention…

* * * * *

First year. February 8th, 2010. That was the first day it had happened. The first time they saw who Abed had dubbed “Secret Jeff.” 

Jeff had been slightly more withdrawn than normal for the past few days, but when he did talk it had usually been to rant about the “very fancy party” he would be attending on Wednesday night with some “rich lawyers.” When Wednesday came around, he’d been talking about it so much that the group gave him the classic groan that was normally reserved for Britta’s tirades or Pierce’s jokes. 

For the duration of the study session that day, Annie had also seemed distant, and as they started to wrap up, they found out why.

“Hey guys, um… I was wondering if… well I have this chemistry class, and the professor gave me a B on my last project, and that was the highest grade in the class, and I really need an A, and I have this diorama due next week and I’m really stressed about it and I was wondering if any of you could help me get started on it tonight since it’s such a big project?”

“Awww honeyyy I’m so sorry,” Shirley leaned over to pat Annie on the shoulder, “I can’t tonight; my boys have a school talent show.” 

“I have a… bit of a date tonight,” Pierce said as he got up from his chair, “So I’ll likely be too busy joining a partner in the throngs of-” 

Britta stopped him before he could continue, “Ugh Pierce, we already know you’re just going to singles night at Swanky Hank’s; you can stop with the imaginary details.”

“Well, Britta what about you?” Annie said hopefully.

“Oh, I can’t; my friend and I are going out to the carnival tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” Annie was starting to look downcast. “Troy? Abed?”

“We can’t. The cafeteria is empty tonight, and we have to film a bunch of scenes for Community College Chronicles in it. I need Troy there to make sure we don’t mess up the part where he tells you he’s into you in front of Vaughn.”

“Blegh guys come on! Please! I really need help, and that show is just getting creepier and creepier.”

“No can do. The project deadline is Friday, and the cafeteria won’t be empty again until next week.”

“Pleeaaaase, can’t you just film it somewhere else?” Annie’s eyes became impossibly wide as she initiated a look that Abed often saw from her when someone had upset her.

But before Abed could respond, he was interrupted.

“I can help you,” it was Jeff.

The room froze, and Annie turned sharply to look at him with a look of shock on her face.

“Woah… okay. What’s wrong?” Jeff said, seemingly confused at the reaction he was getting.

“Jeff... we wouldn’t be starting until seven. You have your party?”

“I can skip it if you need help?” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t even a question for him that this was what he wanted to do. 

“You’ve been talking about the party non-stop! And now you’re just gonna skip-”

Jeff interrupted her with a small laugh, “Annie, it sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of it. Do you want my help?”

At this, Annie’s look of shock started to dissipate, and it was replaced by a slowly growing smile. 

“Well… yeah of course. So… uh… meet me here at seven then?”

“Okay. My last class ends at six so I’ll just wait here for you.”

“Okay! Thanks, Jeff.” Annie’s smile had grown even bigger, and as she got up and started filling her backpack, Abed saw that her cheeks were flushed. 

That was secret Jeff. Secret Jeff was not selfish. He wasn’t oblivious to the needs of others. Secret Jeff set the happiness of others as his number one priority. He could teach people how to enjoy life without it being at the expense of their drive and commitment. And secret Jeff was only ever drawn out by Annie Edison. Even when his kindness was directed at someone else, Annie was always the one who caused it. He’d do anything for her. Whenever Annie neglected herself in favor of others or in favor of the future, secret Jeff would drop everything to take over the role of making Annie smile, and he had a gift for it. 

But secret Jeff was a bit of a secret. Just a second after he first appeared, Britta called him out.

“Hey, am I going nuts or did you just do something completely selfless?”

And just like that, secret Jeff was a secret again.

“Pfft, no way. I’m just trying to keep her in a good mood. If she’s too stressed she’ll never be able to help us study.”

It was one of the least convincing lies Jeff ever told. And that was how it always was. Secret Jeff was hidden, something that Jeff tried to keep under the skin. But Annie Edison always had a way of bringing him out into the open. After that day, it happened constantly. The group would catch Annie trying to convince Jeff of something, they’d see her look up at him for a moment, and instantly his features would soften as he agreed to do whatever she asked of him. They didn’t see secret Jeff all of the time. There was still a lot of the regular “I don’t care” Jeff. But now they knew. And as time went by, Annie didn’t even have to try to draw him out anymore. She just had to be near him, and he’d appear. And every single time, the look on her face was one of complete adoration.

Eventually, the rest of the group caught onto it. They’d make fun of Jeff by trying to mimic Annie’s wide-eyed pout, and Jeff would look at them confusedly and walk away. The group always treated it like some form of manipulation on Annie’s part. But whenever Jeff gives into Annie’s gaze, the pure joy and love on Annie’s face and the warm smile Jeff always hides tell Abed that the group couldn’t be more wrong. 

  
  


* * * * *

It was the evening on the first day of their third year at Greendale. Abed had just finished watching yet another episode of Inspector Spacetime, and he’d officially confirmed for himself that it was a show worth committing to. As he packed up his computer, walked out into the library, and started toward the outer door, he heard a sound coming from deeper inside the bookshelves. Curious, he rounded the corner, and came across Annie sitting in the corner of the room wedged between two shelves, sobbing quietly into her backpack. 

“What’s wrong?” Abed asked.

Annie jerked her head up, saw Abed, and quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“Nothing. I’m okay. I’m just… a bit stressed right now.” She sniffled a little, and wiped her face once more.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Abed asked, secretly hoping she’d decline and he’d be able to get out without having to face emotions that he couldn’t understand. Unfortunately for him, upon hearing that he was willing to listen, Annie started to speak again.

“I… I just feel like I did something terrible today. With Jeff.”

“Annie… I’m always on the look out for a big twist in the story, and even I couldn’t have predicted that Jeff would attack the study table with an axe. It’s not your fault just because you repeated his own words back to him earlier.”

“That’s not even it,” she sobbed lightly again, “I was so terrible to him. I asked him to stop being my friend!” Annie barely got through the last bit before breaking into sobs again. 

“But everything’s okay now? You’re still friends? So what’s wrong?”

“I just… gave up on him! Right in front of him! I just looked him in the eye and said I thought he was too messed up to be my friend. And that’s not true! He’s an amazing person, and what he did today shouldn’t have made me forget that.”

Abed realized then how Annie looked at Jeff. It was so different to the way anyone else would. The rest of the world would look at Jeff’s imperfect life, say that he was failing, and try to convince him to get better. Annie was different. To her, Jeff was never a failure, and when he did fail it was just out of character for him. She treated him like the good person that she already saw in him, and she took it upon herself to convince him that he was that person.

Annie sniffled again, “I’m scared for what that might do to him… just watching me give up on him. I don’t want him to think that’s what I think of him.”

And when she felt like she was failing to convince him, she took it hard. Abed didn’t know how exactly he was supposed to comfort her. But he tried anyway.

“I think everyone agrees that attacking the table with an axe is way out of line, Annie. You reacted strongly, and you don’t need to feel bad for it. If you feel differently now, I think Jeff will realize it pretty quickly when you’re still friends.”

Annie smiled up at him a little bit from the floor, “I just hope he’s okay. I don’t want _him_ to give up on himself too.”

Having run out of comforting words, all Abed could do was nod.

The next day, as Abed was walking to the study room, he saw Annie pull Jeff aside into the library up ahead of him. Silently, he walked toward some nearby shelves, picked up a book to pretend to read, and subtly watched and listened.

“Jeff… I’m sorry about yesterday.” 

“Wait, _you’re_ sorry? Annie I turned into Jack Nicholsen in the middle of the study room. You… wait I don’t even know what you did, why are you apologizing?”

“I asked you to stop being my friend!”

“I don’t blame you Annie. I try to unfriend people too when I learn that they have axe-murdering tendencies.”

“Jeeffff!” Annie slapped him playfully across the chest, but then got a very serious look. “Jeff, anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. I’ve seen how great of a person you are for years now…”

Jeff’s face changed.

“... and it was awful of me to just throw that all away because of one time you did something crazy. So... I just hope you know that _I_ know you are really great. And that one time you got high on monkey gas doesn’t change that.”

Jeff tried to hide how much her words moved him, but he failed to stop his expression from giving it away. Annie caught the glimpse on his face before he could hide it, and threw her arms around his torso in a tight hug. Abed saw it on Jeff’s face then. The intense warmth in his eyes, and the smile that had consumed all of his features. His arms moved around her.

Through his smile that Annie couldn’t see at the moment, he whispered, “You did slam my head into a table. And I still think you’re great. So I guess this works out.”

She let go and backed up, smiling up at him. 

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you I got into biology,” Jeff said. His statement was quickly followed by a loud squeal of joy. 

* * * * *

First year, the day of their rescheduled Spanish final. Everyone walked into class with looks that even Abed could clearly identify as overwhelmingly stressed. Jeff walked in, the last of the study group to arrive, and Abed could see Annie’s expression of stress instantly melt away. Now, as her gaze followed him to his chair, it was a wide smile that was radiating warmth. Abed turned to see if Jeff had noticed, and saw as he met her look and his own stress-worn features relaxed as a smile took over his face as well.

* * * * *

Second year, just after the whole group got into a giant fight with Annie when she threatened to tell the Dean that Duncan was teaching a fake class. Jeff had been the primary antagonist, and Annie had been just seconds away from tears by the end of the fight when the whole group was ganging up on her. She’d quickly gotten up and run out of the room. As Abed walked out of the study room with the rest of them, he saw Jeff immediately walk toward the corner of the library that Annie usually went to to be alone. Abed followed from a distance, and saw Annie sitting with tear-streaks on her face. The moment she looked up to see a contrite Jeff sitting down next to her, Abed could see the sadness washing away. Before Jeff had even gotten through two words of his apology, Annie was already smiling that smile, the trails of moisture on her cheeks the only indication that there had been any sadness just moments ago.

* * * * *

Second year, at Abed’s birthday party. The group had gotten into a long conversation about who would survive longest in a vombie (vampire-zombie) apocalypse. Part way through, Abed noticed that Jeff had stopped contributing to the conversation. When he looked to see why, Jeff was staring at Annie with that smile on his face, watching her laugh at Britta’s ill-fated apocalypse survival plan. When Annie became absent from the conversation as well, Abed didn’t even need to look to see why.

* * * * *

Third year, at the Trobed housewarming party. All night, Jeff had made his lack of desire to be there extremely apparent. His expression most of the night was not particularly happy. But when Abed saw Jeff leaning against the counter holding a slice of pizza, there was no mistaking the happiness in his eyes as he watched Annie dancing her heart out to “Roxanne.” When she ran up to him a few seconds later and asked him to join them, it only took a couple seconds of wide-eyes pleading for him to jump into the fray with an even wider smile on his face.

* * * * *

Fifth year, at a random save Greendale meeting. Nothing of particular interest was going on that day. Everyone was already in the study room, except for Jeff. Abed looked over to see Annie with her chair angled toward the door, watching it intently. The moment Jeff walked in, Abed saw the smile on her face and the look in her eyes. When Jeff caught her gaze and his own smile appeared, she blushed slightly. It was like this almost every single day.

* * * * *

So as Abed looks at Jeff and Annie now, he knows Shirley is wrong. This isn’t the happiest they’ve ever been. The expressions on their faces now are the same ones he’s been seeing for years. The things they make each other feel now are no different than what they’ve always been. The love Abed can see so clearly in their eyes has been there all along.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! That's a wrap! Sorry for the sickening amount of fluff at the end there; I just needed to indulge myself. Thank you all so much for reading; I have enjoyed writing this so very much. Once again, I will be extremely grateful for any feedback you have, and if you enjoyed the story please leave kudos! I'll probably get started writing another Jeff+Annie related fic soon, so if anyone has any requests or ideas for something I should write let me know in the comments! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did :) See ya later! #SIXSEASONSANDAMOVIE


End file.
